#I have found I am much less likely to bite if I listen to the hobbit soundtrack while actively declaring war on my work

[hermette-historian]

I am Dr. Heinz Doofenschmirtz and the auto-titrator is my Perry the Platypus

Me: I've now restarted you six times, given you a new silver probe, calibrated the pH meter, untangled the cable forest, refilled all seven chemical bottles, and unplugged every goddamn connection on the instrument. I even turned up the temperature in the lab, in case you were just upset because you were a little cold. It's been two and a half hours and this test should have taken me max 40 minutes. Do you feel like working now?

Tiamo, burrowing under the covers: Nope. Try again tomorrow.

Me: I am going to BITE SOMETHING.

[leviismybby]

"Pregnant?" Connie's mouth drops as you and Levi make the announcement. You kept your pregnancy a secret for long enough and your belly was starting to show too much, they would've figured it out anyway. Sasha stops eating, her eyes go wide, Jean next to her tries not to smile, he definitely wants to say something inappropriate. Before he gets the chance to, Armin speaks. "Congratulations captain and name!" He smiles at both of you. The tension at the table was awkward as you knew that some of them didn't even know you and Levi were dating.

Mikasa doesn't say anything but you can see the slight smile on her face meanwhile Eren looks like he is having some sort of flashbacks. "Congrats." He says, his green eyes shifting from his food to your belly, which makes you question a few things but you smile back and nod your head at him. "You know Captain for humanity's strongest soldier you sure don't know how to pull-ow!" Sasha stomps on Connie's foot under the table and Jean laughs. "Be mature for once will you!" The brunette says to him with her mouth full of food. Levi rolls his eyes at the banter, he really didn't want to tell them. It's not because he doesn't trust them but he thinks that it's safer for you and your baby if less people knew.

"You're the one to talk! Your mouth is full of food." Connie bites back at Sasha and she just continues to eat. Mikasa turns to you. "Congratulations. I still don't know how you keep up with him." She says, her and Levi did have a bumpy relationship but you know that she doesn't mean it in a bad way. "Well now I will have to keep up with two..." You chuckle. "Can we name it?" Jean asks. "Absolutely not." Levi doesn't even let him think about it. "And from now I want you all to be careful around name, is that clear?" They all nod at Levi's command.

"It's a boy." Eren says, he has been awfully quiet since you said that you were expecting a child, the whole table turned to look at him. "I mean, I think it's going to be a boy." He says, looking down at his food. Sasha shakes her head. "Nuh uh, it's definitely a girl!" They all start to place bets and Levi sighs, he whistles to get their attention. "You're not betting on a the gender of my fucking child. Now, after breakfast, I want to see all of you train extra hard understood?" "Yes, captain!" They all say in unison, Armin sheepishly looks at you. "I agree with Eren, I think it's a boy. I read that boys leave all the beauty to the mother and you're glowing Name." You smile at him, Armin always was sweet, well most of the time.

"Right, can you guys please keep this a secret? We don't want everyone to know." It's a simple request that leaves your mouth. They all nod, this went better than you thought it would, most of them are happy but Eren's reaction lingers at the back of your mind. "Listen when the little Ackerman terror is born, can I be the godfather?" That's a question that throws Levi off guard, especially since Jean asked it. "No, I want to be the godfather! That baby deserves someone fun as the godfat-" "Neither of you." Levi says, pinching the area between his eyes. "Now, off to training." Standing up one by one they all make their way outside, Mikasa approaches you. "If you need anything you can let me know." She says and you can't help but smile at her. "Thank you, Mikasa."

As the room clears, Levi turns to you. "I am surprised that none of them asked how kids are made." Laughing at these words, you shake your head. "They are all 17-18, Levi. They know all too well by now." You can still remember how traumatized Eren and Mikasa were when they found out, to your surprise, that Armin knew despite his two confused best friends. "Yeah well, all of them are still brats." He kisses your temple and then your belly. "I'll see you two later." He gives you a quick kiss before heading out to training. Your hand goes down to your belly and you rub the bump, in this time of war and hardship, a baby will surely bring at least a bit of happiness into it all.

[seonghwaddict]

say my name — song mingi

request by anon. "This is my first request to anyone ever so forgive me if this is..idk incoherent 😭. But lately I've been thinking about a short smut story where the reader (fem) being a backup dancer for ATEEZ and Mingi catching feelings for her over time and then end up fucking in the dressing room and maybe one of the members walks in idk have fun with it. 🤭"

idol!song mingi x backup dancer!reader. genre. smut. warnings. smut below the cut, explicit sexual content minors dni, fingering, some dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, baby), slight dom/sub dynamics, dom!mingi, swearing, intentional lowercase. please let me know if i missed anything. wc. 1.2k.

lilo's notes. i'm back!! this is the first request i've received, hopefully i did it justice. by the time i finished writing i forgot that anonie asked it it's possible for another member to walk in and join.... sorry about that. but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this!!

listening to. perceive by doma cyno.

masterlist

“fuck, baby,” a hand swiped through your folds, gathering the almost embarrassing amount of arousal from your core. “you’re so wet.”

you like to think your day started off like every other day. you woke up at 7 am, ate breakfast, got ready for the day and arrived at kq two hours later. you went through some choreographies with the other backup dancers until 4 pm, left to run some errands, and then returned to practice some more on your own.

since your first day at the company only a few months ago, you’d always take a few hours after your shift to perfect your art more than you already have. sometimes you’d spend those hours with the other dancers who showed up for the same reason, but surprisingly, a lot of the time it was mingi who found himself practising his group’s or his own choreography alongside you.

the first few times felt awkward, to say the least.

you yourself weren’t really one to strike up conversations with random people, and considering he was part of the group you had to dance for, you were afraid of slipping up and losing your job. but, eventually, he talked to you. after that, things were easier—you’d joke around, take breaks to go eat something, help each other and sometimes even stop what you were working on to choreograph something together; just the two of you.

it was only a month or two later that you caught yourself looking at him in a less than friendly but rather heated way… and much to your surprise, you slowly started noticing his own lustful glances—lips red from biting them and hooded eyes tracking your every movement. but, alas, you weren’t one for first moves.

considering all of this, you weren’t surprised at the position you were currently in; on the floor of the practice room, legs hooked around his as you sat between them, mingi’s lips against the side of your neck, one arm around your waist and the other with his hand inside your panties (your shorts had been discarded long ago, along with his shirt) as he faced you to lthe mirror, forcing you to watch his every movement.

he swiped his middle finger through your folds, gathering some arousal and then slowly circling your swollen clit. a breathy whimper escaped your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder. the combined sensation of his finger around your nub and his lips kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck sent another wave of wetness gushing out of you.

“eyes on the mirror, doll,” he moved his head up to whisper right into your ear with that husky voice of his, gently biting down on your earlobe. he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, letting your legs down to slip your panties off before hooking them over his thighs again. you were practically dripping as he exposed you. “i want you to see what i’m doing, watch how your beautiful little body reacts to me.”

reluctantly, you nodded and pulled yourself off his shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the arousal smeared between your thighs. a moan escaped your lips as he gave your clit a particularly firm tug, his ring and middle finger pressed against the skin on either side of it and pinching gently. you tried holding back your following moans, but the quiver of your thighs gave you away. though, you felt better knowing you weren’t the only enjoying this so much, his erection strained against his pants and poked at your ass. 

his movements against your heat were slow but precise, eliciting pretty little whimpers and moans from you. the hand wrapped around the front of your waist moved up, featherlight touches leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he gently brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bra. then he nudge the straps down your shoulder and let the bra cups fall, his hand immediately going to tweak at your nipples. 

“f-fuck…” you cursed quietly, trying your best to stop your eyes from fluttering shirt from all the pleasure and keep your eyes on the mirror as he asked.

two of his large fingers circled your entrance, massaging it before slowly pushing in. jaw slack at the stinging stretch, you watched as they disappeared into your vagina, breath stuttering when he curved them just enough to brush against the right spot. your hand snaked it’s way behind his head, tugging on his hair gently.

“oh, look, doll,” you heard him groan behind you, feeling his smirk against your neck, “look at how well you take my fingers…”

and with that he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you, digits firmly pressing against the spongey spot inside you each time, increasing his speed more and more as his thumb continue circling your clit. he watched your face in the mirror, analysing each twitch of your muscles and each flutter of your lashes to perfectly adjust his movements. in any other context, you perhaps would’ve appreciated how perceptive he was. but right now you wanted nothing more than to savour the feeling of his fingers, anticipating how his cock would feel in you. 

before you knew it, the familiar knot of an orgasm began tightening in your abdomen, your body squirming.

“shit, mingi…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in a drawl and his movement stopped for a moment.l before he continued at a more rigorous pace. you could’ve sworn you felt his erection twitch behind you. 

“say that again,” he growled, “say my name.”

the rough scratch of his voice made you impossibly wetter as you obeyed quickly. “mingi, o-oh…”

after that it didn’t take much longer for you to snap, coming down hard on his fingers, muscles jerking and back arching as his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises.

“keep it down, baby, someone might walk in and see you at my mercy.”

he pulled his fingers out of you and caressed your thighs. it didn’t take to long for you to calm down from your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as he whispered praises in your ear. despite the fact you just had an orgasm, you knew you still wanted more.

“i-i need… i need you,” you tried, face flushed as you hinted the best you could.

“hm?” he chuckled. “and what exactly do you need of me?”

with a huff, you grinded yourself back against him, against his cock, but he moved his hands to grip your hips firmly and stop you. 

“that won’t do,” he shook his head. “i want you to use your words, doll. can you do that for me, baby?”

a moment of silence passed between you. it was awkward or anything, a teasing grin on his face as he looked you in the eyes through the mirror, your brows furrowed before you sighed.

“god, mingi, i need your cock in me.”

he grinned, hands tugging your shirt and bra off before sitting back on his knees and turning you around. mingi leaned over you, cupping your chin before kissing you with a bruising hardness. once he broke the kiss, a malicious spark shined in his sharp eyes.

“anything for my doll.”

network. @cromernet

[froggibus]

Mask Off - Stu Macher! Ghostface

Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader

Genre: smut/NSFW (w a sprinkle of hurt/comfort cause, cmon guys, it’s me)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: at a party at Stu’s, the last thing you’re expecting is for the masked killer to save you from the man who tried to assault you, or for him to take his turn right after

CW: SA, murder, blood, knives, violence, standard Ghostface stuff, breath play, knife play, unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, blood kink?, hints of a mask kink, degradation, lots of dirty talk, reader is referred to as a slut/whore, they fuck next to a dead body, established relationship, soft! Stu, Ghostface reveal

guys I just watched Scream 6 and I am so soft for Stu rn idek why. i usually don’t write stuff like this but the Scream movies are some of my favorites (def not cause me and the final girl have the same name…definitely not) and I’ve had HARD ghostface brain rot lately so…here’s this lol

————

Sitting on the living room floor of your boyfriend’s house, half drunk and watching movies, everything feels right. Sure, there’s a psycho killer on the loose, and everyone in the house is technically breaking curfew, but you couldn’t care less. Even with Randy geeking out over the Jamie Lee horror movie playing on the tv, you can’t complain. 

The guy next to you on the floor, a couple more beers in than you are, shuffles closer. You side eye him, but don’t say anything. You find yourself looking for Stu—you know how jealous he can get. But your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. 

You take a deep breath and another chug of your beer, hoping to calm the nerves that have found their way into your stomach. You don’t like the idea of your boyfriend being MIA when there’s a killer around. 

Your nerves are shoved away when you feel a warm hand on your thigh. You turn to the guy next to you, who gives you a nod and a smirk. 

He must be an idiot, or not well versed in the politics of Woodsboro Seniors, or else he would know that he’s in your boyfriend's house, trying to feel you up. You roll your eyes, finish chugging your drink, and head upstairs to try to find your boyfriend. 

You don’t even hear the guy get up behind you. 

You duck into Stu’s room, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Not wanting to go back downstairs, you fall backwards onto his bed and relax into the sheets. They smell like him, and the scent is so comforting, it’s almost enough to put you to sleep. 

Almost. 

The door opens and you sit up instantly, expecting to find your boyfriend but disappointed to see the guy from earlier. 

“What do you want?” You squint at him. 

“You disappeared on me, baby.”

“Look, I don’t even know who you are, and clearly you don’t know me, or else you would know that this is my boyfriend’s house. And believe me when I say he’s the jealous type.”

He sits down on the bed, and you shuffle to the other side, drawing your knees to your chest. He seems to take that as a challenge, smirking even wider. 

“Your boyfriend never needs to know.”

“Get lost, dude.”

He’s on you in an instant, lips pressing against yours, body on top of yours. You shove him hard, but that only makes him lean in more. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. The reality of your situation starts to set in, and you drive a knee into his groin. 

He groans, pulling back and slapping you hard. He squeezes your face, eyes angry. “Listen, slut, hit me again and the killer on the loose is the last thing you have to worry about. Do you understand?”

You go to bite his finger but he clamped his hand over your mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

He presses his hand down hard enough to keep you quiet, trailing his hand up your stomach. You squirm as his hand gets to your chest, still trying to deter him. 

Just as he slips his hand up your shirt, you see the cloaked figure behind him. You let out a gasp that he takes as you enjoying what he’s doing. 

You think it’s a prank, that someone is just trying to scare the people hooking up at the party. But the mask…the cloak…it’s all too real. And then you see the glint of silver and your blood runs cold. 

You want to scream and run away, but at the same time, you want the man on top of you to suffer. You want to hear the knife sink into him and you want to see his blood come pouring out. And with the way he’s touching you, you would rather die than have to tell Stu what happened. 

Not that he wouldn’t understand, but because you’re sure things would never be the same. 

The guy doesn’t even notice the figure approaching, doesn’t even notice the way you’re almost crying into his palm. The figure, that the news has dubbed Ghostface, tilts his head at you. 

You should be scared, you should be running, but you aren’t. Something about him, something about the way he’s looking at you, makes you feel almost safe. At least, safer than the guy currently forcing himself on you. 

He pulls his arm back, revealing the sharpened knife once more, before driving it into the back of the man on top of you. He spasms, blood dripping out of his mouth and down your neck. 

Ghostface doesn’t let up, though. He drives the knife in and out of him, penetrating his skin over and over and over. The sound of sharp metal against soft skin fills your ears, and warm blood covers you. 

Finally, the man goes limp, and Ghostface practically throws him off of the bed. He crawls on top of you, replacing the dead man. His body is warm on yours, and he smells like blood and an almost familiar cologne. 

He slides the flat end of the blade across your cheek, down your jaw and onto your throat. You suck in a breath, trying not to let your fear show. You can hear his breathing through the mask, and the feeling of the cold metal on your skin sends waves of arousal through you. 

You should probably consult a therapist on that, given you survive. 

He pulls the knife away from you, tucking it into his waistband. You squint. Isn’t he going to kill you? 

He lifts up his hands, and for a second you think he’s going to strangle you. But no, he does something that surprises you even more. He removes the mask. 

You gasp, covering your mouth in shock. You’re not sure who you were expecting, but it wasn’t your boyfriend. 

He tilts his head at you, giving you a lopsided grin. “Sorry, baby. I lost my temper.”

You nod slowly, the idea that Stu is the Ghostface killer not quite registering in your mind. He wipes blood off of your face, licking it off of his fingers. Something about the action is so erotic that it has you clenching your thighs. 

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice comes out strained. You’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for—for the guy who assaulted you or for your shock or for seeing him without his mask. 

He pushes the hair out of your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding and your clit throbbing. 

His hand moves from your hair to your neck, squeezing gently. Stu was always fascinated with stuff like that—pain and breath play and knives. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t fascinate you, too. 

He kisses you, lips hungrily devouring yours. You can taste blood, but you’re not sure if it’s from his face or yours. His hand slides down your waist, bunching up the fabric of your t-shirt and sliding his hand under it. 

“Are you scared?” There’s a smirk on his lips, something dark in his eyes. 

“A little,” you admit. 

“Of me?”

“Not of you. Never of you.”

He just killed a man in front of you—on top of you—but you’ve never felt more safe. And that’s what scares you. Your own desires, your own fucked up thoughts and feelings. 

“You know I’d never let anything hurt you,” he taps his fingers on your throat. “I would never hurt you. You’re mine, and mine alone.”

You tug him to you by the collar of his cloak, shoving your lips against his. He smiles against you, tightening his grip on your throat. Not enough to hurt, just enough so that you can feel the pressure. 

He slides his hand into your pants, laughing at how wet your panties are. He rubs your clit through the fabric, moving his lips to suck and bite at your neck. 

“D’you want me, baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please.”

He’s ripping your panties off and tugging his boxers down in an instant, pulling up his cloak just enough so that he has easy access. He rubs the head of his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick. He kisses you deeply just as he sinks his cock inside of you. 

You never get used to the stretch, the delicious feeling of him moulding your walls to the shape of his cock. 

He pulls out and thrusts back in, his cock going even deeper. You whine, throwing your head back. He laughs at your moans and keeps going, shoving into you at a brutal pace. You cry out in response, the moans falling out before you can stop them. 

His hand clamps over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. Do you really want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me? Do you want someone to walk in on you fucking the killer like a whore?”

His words only make you wetter, pussy clenching tighter around him. It only eggs him on more, his thrusts becoming harder and more forceful as he nears his high. 

“Mm, I forgot you like being my slut,” he laughs in your ear, gasping whenever you clench around him. “Fucking me in the bed of the guy I just killed for you?”

You hate how much his words turn you on, hate how they only push you further towards your climax. You dig your nails into his shoulders, bunching up the black fabric. 

He slams harder into you and you know he’s close. You wrap your arms around him, tugging him in closer. He thrust a few more times, movements sloppier, before his cock twitches and you’re filled with hot cum. 

The feeling of his cum pooling inside of you is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him. 

He kisses your forehead, holding you closer to him. “As sexy as you look covered in blood, you should probably change.”

“What are you gonna do?”

He plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, ‘kay?”

You nod, rolling out of his arms and standing up on shaky legs. You’re covered in bed, your clothes absolutely soaked through. You head straight for the bathroom, soaking a cloth to wipe the blood from your skin. 

“Y/n,” he knocks gently, “I left some of my clothes out here for you to change into. Go through the window and head through the basement door—I don’t want you getting caught up in this.”

You change into his clothes, trying to ignore the light bruises on your throat and thighs. You love how his clothes fit on you, though. You love being claimed by him. 

You do as he says, sneaking through the basement door and pretending like you were just bringing up another case of beer. 

Randy turns his head to look at you, and for a minute you think that you’re caught. He’s going to say something about your disappearance and change of clothes. 

Instead, he just shakes his head at you. “Where’ve you been? You missed Basic Instinct!”

An arm wraps around your shoulder, the familiar cream coloured sweater draping over you. “She was just helping me get more beer,” Stu shrugs. 

Randy makes a face, but says nothing. He turns back to the tv, and Stu takes that as an opportunity to kiss your neck. “Just so you know,” his voice is barely a whisper in your ear, “I’m keeping the mask on next time.”

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Next update will post Monday the 23rd , same time and same place! Going to start working on updating my game etc. <3

Transcript under the cut

Siobhan: There you are! Our guest of honor tucked away in the corner. You’re not hiding, are you?

Nancy: I never really liked crowds.

Siobhan: That won’t do, Nancy. Come. Lets chat.

Siobhan: You know, the way you handled Becca the other night is admirable. I wouldn’t have done anything less if it were my man she was pawing after.

Nancy: Listen, I’m not a violent person. I shouldn’t have hit her.

Siobhan: It hardly matters. It’s about respect.

Siobhan: You have the means to be the most powerful woman in the world. Your family runs a multi million dollar company. Your name is on every recognizable building across the globe. Girls like Becca will dream of the day they can write you a check so she can raise her brood of rowdy children in one of your flawlessly designed properties.

Siobhan: You’re a star, Nancy. It’s time you show everyone what it means to be a Landgraab. You can start by becoming a Theta.

Siobhan: By the way, your mother just arrived!

Nancy: Hello Mother.

Queenie: Nancy.

Nancy: Father couldn’t make it?

Queenie: No, I’m afraid he’s tied up in a prior engagement. Besides, I try not to bore him with my personal affairs. [murmurs] How provocative, these pieces.

Queenie: So you’ve made friends with the daughter of an adulterer. Is that what you thought would impress me? Well, at least she’s proactive. Your lack of involvement in any clubs or organizations shows just how lazy you are. It’s almost as if we’ve sent you to university to piss away our money yet again. When will you prove to me that you’re worth half the trouble you put your father and me through? And for the love of God, stop biting your nails! It’s disgusting.

Professor Munch: -right, Nancy?

Nancy: I’m sorry, what was that?

Professor Munch: This model is absolutely stunning! Marvelous, even.

Nancy: R-really? Thank you, Professor.

Professor Munch: Ah! No wonder! Your drawings are very compelling. The way you blend functionality with aesthetics is brillant! A true prodigy!

Professor Munch: I am very proud of you, Nancy. Keep it up.

Nancy: Hi Professor. I know I’m a little early for office hours, but I really wanted your thoughts on my blueprints.

Professor Munch: Nancy! Are you kidding! Anything for my star pupil. Take a seat.

Professor Munch: If I’m being honest, I don’t have much critique.

Nancy: Staying on top of my grades is really important to me. My GPA is 3.7 but I know I can do more to improve. I can do better-

Professor Munch: [huffs affectionately] Nancy! You are my brightest and best student! I’d say it’s in your blood. I haven’t seen such vision and passion in my student’s work since I taught your brother.

Nancy: Nathan was your student?

Professor Munch: Oh, Nathan was my star! In the short time I spent with him, he has shown me what true artistry looks like. That kid had an eye for detail. He always spoke so fondly of his little baby sister, Nan; he’d call you. [sighs] I miss him dearly.

Professor Munch: I thought of quitting and getting back into the field after he passed. I was devastated when I found out about the accident. My partner pushed me to continue teaching. She knew there was nothing I loved more than handing the tools to brillant kids like you and Nathan to shape our future.

Nancy: Partner? [frowns] Your...partner?

Professor Munch: Monica. We were roommates in college and have been stuck to each other like glue since!

Nancy: So, she’s your best friend?

Professor Munch: Oh certainly. My best friend, my muse, my partner.

Nancy: What about your husband?

Professor Munch: Husband?

Nancy: I- sorry. Nevermind.

Professor Munch: Talk to me, dear. What’s on your mind?

Nancy: I guess I don’t understand. You’re wearing a ring but you have no photos of your husband. You seem...close with her, in the photo.

Professor Munch: I was married once. We have three children together. Sweetest man alive. We’re still friends to this day. We both realized that we had our hearts in different places. In the end, I had my Monica. My soulmate.

Nancy: [sobs quietly]

Professor Munch: Oh, no. Nancy? Dear, are you alright?

Professor Munch: [softly] Oh, sweet darling. You’re hurting, aren’t you? Can I hold you? Is that ok?

Nancy: [nods once]

Professor Munch: You let it all out, you hear me? Just let it all out. I got you.

Nancy Narrates: [I wondered what kind of person I’d be had my mother held me like this]

Professor Munch: There’s a small club that I support that meets every Friday in the commons. I think you should stop by.

Nancy: Thank you Professor but, I think I’ve already decided to join a sorority.

Professor Munch: I’ll tell you what, it’s not something you have to join or commit to, but I think there’s something to gain by coming. Plus, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You two have a lot in common.

Morgan: Holy shit, hey! It’s Nancy Landgraab! Get over here!

[transmascaraa]

Hi, Hi, Hi! How are you?

I am the one, who requested the FREEZING hands and I loved it. Thanks for the food. I really, really loved it! And I have another request! Their s/o just randomly telling them what their first impression of them was, when they first saw them. They always heard of like their intimidating/cold behaviour or looks, but when their s/o first saw them they didn’t think that. They thought like “Such a cutie patootie! Awww! Look at how adorable he is! I just wanna squish those cheeks!”

Could I request Cyno, Alhaitham, Wriothesley & Diluc with that? (And could I be an anon? 🪶 anon please? Pretty please?)

STAY HYDRATED, EAT ENOUGH AND HAVE A PROPER SLEEP SCHEDULE!

multiple characters headcannons!

"cutie patootie!"

characters: cyno, alhaitham, wriothesley, diluc x gn!reader

author's note: OFC I ALREADY ADDED YOU TO THE ANONS ON MY INTRODUCTION POST^^ i love this and this is probably how i would act if i was actually in genshin aka teyvat idk anyways enjoy reading this!!

๑ Cyno

-you when you just told him this he still had a neutral look on his face.

-"and they all told me you were so so SO scary! but when i first saw you- I WANTED TO BITE YOUR CHEEKS AFFECTIONATELY!!!"

-he looked a little confused.

-"bite my cheeks?-"

-"THEY'RE SO SQUISHY!!"

-you got closer to him and cupped his face in your hands, basically squishing his cheeks, and then giving him a kiss on the nose.

-"y'know, i still feel the same about you. i don't know what the hell others are going on about."

-he's never received much affection in his life before so he's kinda confused about it, despite his cheeks getting redder and warmer by second, ever if he didn't realize it.

-"uh- thanks?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Alhaitham

-you start ranting to him but the first few minutes he isn't even listening to you and is instead reading some book even tho he said he's literally listening.

-"'haitham! are you even listening?"

-"huh? uhm- sorry- can you repeat what you were saying?"

-you're a bit annoyed but do it anyway, and this time ge actually listens.

-"yeah? what about us when we first met?"

-he's impatient for you to finish but also curious about what you're about to say.

-now he's a bit surprised.

-"I JUST WANTED TO SQUISH YOUR CHEEKS AAH!!!!!-"

-he's SLIGHTLY blushing and has a MICROSCOPIC smile on his face but yeah.

-he's happy to know it but also- how the fuck did you think that he was a "cutie patootie" as you said?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Wriothesley

-bro would be flabbergasted but smirking at you teasingly the whole damn time

-"AND I THOUGHT YOU WERE SO FUCKING CUTE!"

-"mhm..."

-"oh~?"

-"yeah..~

-you would be blushing halfway but he'll let you continue lmao

-then he'd start talking about how he felt when you first met too and it would honestly be really cute imo

-but like okay dude why you looking at me like you'll ask me to kiss youu

-he probably will tho tbh

-not much left to say but he'll really enjoy listening to you and all cuz bffr you're 753 times more special to him cuz you didn't find him intimidating like literally everyone told you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✯ Diluc

-he'll deny it the whole time that he finds you so adorable ranting to him about it

-but then again he appreciates it

-even tho he wishes you actually found him scary or intimidating

-"AND LIKE- YOU LOOKED SO CUTE THAT I WANTED TO JUST GRAB YOU BY YOUR HANDS AND JUST KISS YOU WHOLE FACE ALL OVER AND-"

-"i don't understand you... how the fuck do i look- what was the word... skrunkly-?"

-you laughed your ass off at that but like okay

-he looked even more confused lol

-but no matter how little he understands you, he'll always be sure to actually pay attention to you cuz he doesn't want you to feel forgotten or worth any less than you are

-he'll do his best to not come off as too rude or mean but he genuinely thinks your thoughts sometimes are weird af

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

loved this one definitely

i didn't know what other word to use except for skrunkly but alr

HOPE YOU LIKED IT‼️

| 🪶anon | @mariaace <3

[lazyevaluationranch]

*pats askbox gently* there are more Thermoreceptors?

(I'm sorry ur dome was so hot; I hope its much cooler now!)

My bluff has been called! Hooray!!

I am not a neurologist, a biologist, or a scientist. If anyone with better credentials than "obsessed with emergent properties" contradicts me, listen to them instead.

Cell membranes include little portal proteins that open under certain circumstances based on the shape of the protein and let chemicals into and out of the cell. These portals are useful for all sorts of things: managing water and nutrients, sending messages to nearby cells, serving the whims of tiny intercellular cats. Science hasn't found the tiny intercellular cats yet, but we all know they're there; the existence of a door that can be opened necessarily implies an indecisive feline.

Some protein shapes open up if the temperature is within a certain range. This means that if a cell with that sort of protein in its membrane experiences a temperature in the right range, it will move some chemicals around. This is used to make nerve cells that send a message towards the brain whenever they experience a certain temperature.

Because evolution does all its best work the night before the deadline while on a Code Red Mountain Dew bender, the opened-by-temperature portal proteins are mostly copied from opened-by-a-specific-chemical portal proteins. All of them, in fact, still open for specific chemicals, which means there exist out in the world liquids you can put in a bottle that most animals will instead perceive as "a temperature between 8 and 26 degrees" So things can get a little weird.

Temperature-opening portal proteins:

TRPA1 Opens for temperatures below 12C (not air temperature, skin or body temperature, so you might be kind of in trouble when this happens). Used by hunting snakes to detect where heat isn't so they can find prey. Feels painful in an itchy sort of way.

This one also opens for allyl isothiocyanate. Many plants have evolved to take advantage of the existence of a chemical most animals perceive as itchy pain, especially horseradish and wasabi. Allyl isothiocyanate is harmful to plants, so they keep two separate components in tiny compartments. When an animal bites the plant, the compartments break open their contents mix to create allyl isothiocyanate.

"This plant tastes like itching" is a good defense against almost all animals, but some humans have taught themselves to appreciate the taste of itching.

TRPM8 Opens for temperatures between 8 and 26 degrees. Opens for menthol (peppermint, spearmint, wintergreen) and linalool (roses, orange blossoms, basil). Feels cool or cold.

"This plant tastes like cold" is a somewhat less effective defense against being eaten than "this plant tastes like itching" but it's a more widespread defense because TRPM8-activating chemicals don't harm plants and don't need elaborate two-part storage.

TRPV4 Opens for temperatures from 27-37 C. I'm not sure what this one feels like, or if even feels like anything, since it covers normal human body temperatures. Whatever feeling we get from this one, we're feeling it nearly all the time.

Plants do make a chemical that tastes like this temperature, and it can repel nonhuman creatures with different body temperatures: allicin, the flavour of garlic. Like allyl isothiocyante, it is stored in two compartments inside the plant, and combined when the plant is bitten.

Maybe this is why vampires abhor garlic. There is a feeling that, as humans, we always have. Something we don't notice, something deeper than touch. That feel disappears forever when you become a vampire, except those unbearable moments when garlic returns to you for a fleeting moment the experience of lost humanity.

TRPV3 Opens for temperatures 33-39 degrees. Opens for eugenol, found in cinnamon, nutmeg, bay leaf, holy basil, ginger, allspice, and cloves. Feels like warmth.

Plants with high quantities of eugenol, like holy basil and Japanese star anise, are sometimes sacred to buddhists because they smell nice and bugs don't like to eat them, so you can burn them as incense without worrying about all the little crawly guys.

Humans apparently think food that tastes like "warm" is comforting.

TRPV1 Opens for temperatures over 43 degrees. (The one I was experiencing in the overheated dome, which I had never felt from air before) Opens for capsaicin, the active chemical in hot peppers. Opens for the combination of temperature and acidity of fevers and infected wounds. This one we feel as pain, as burning, as flame.

TRPV1 says: Your flesh is failing, and your doom is very near.

Humanity says: This is incredible. We are going to breed plants that cause this sensation as much as possible, and we will spend thousands of years getting it right. We are going to dry this and powder this and flake it and grill it and ferment it and eat it with everything.

And when we leave earth and go into space, we take hot peppers with us. Without gravity, fluid builds up in nasal passages, and astronauts sort of have colds the entire time they're in space and can't smell food very well. But the Nearness Of Your Doom is not a smell and is not perceived by the nose, so - with their doom always on the other side of ten centimeters of insulated aluminum - astronauts can taste hot peppers. In 2002, Peggy Whitson, commander of the ISS, jokingly refused to let a replacement crew on board until they handed over the hot sauce.

We are a strange and wonderful species.

[zweiginator]

yes !! art feeling left out of the whole patrick-tashi and her roommate thing that he only found out about because patrick of course told him and he's so fucking jealous because he always had the biggest crush on reader ...

yes yes YES!

imagining patrick and tashi go out with art one day. art is crossing his fingers hoping you'll be there but you aren't. you had gone home for the weekend.

and he notices how weird tashi and patrick are acting. they're much more cuddly and happy-go-lucky. weird, because they normally are way more argumentative with each other, more hotheaded. not that they had a bad relationship--that was just them.

"you guys seem--happy." art says. they are at their favorite pizza place.

"all three of us won our matches, why wouldn't we be?" tashi looks confused; she takes a sip of her water.

"i mean like, generally. not that that's bad--just curious."

patrick shrugs. does this stupid little smirk that drives art mad. like he's trying to be coy but also wants to let you know that something big definitely happened.

so he and patrick do their tug-of-war. patrick lets on that he has news, art asks him to tell him. patrick says no, no, i can't. art ends up begging until patrick decides he will be a good friend and let him in on the secret.

he looks at tashi. who clearly doesn't want patrick to tell art, but she rolls her eyes and says go ahead.

"we've been--" patrick pauses. for dramatic effect or just to gather his thoughts--art doesn't know. "fooling around with y/n."

art's face drops. "like tashi's roommate?" he has so many questions. "what do you mean, fooling around? we?"

"i dunno." patrick shrugs. "she's inexperienced so we are showing her the ropes, i guess. not a big deal."

"so you're having-" art lowers his voice. "threesomes?"

"no. i wouldn't consider it a threesome at all."

patrick explains the dynamic. art shouldn't be asking about this, and realistically, they shouldn't be delving into all this with a third party--but they can't help it. they like the novelty of it all. how taboo it is. and patrick loves to one-up art. to peacock.

so art listens to how patrick ate your pussy. patrick goes into everything in such intricate detail. art almost shatters his glass when tashi and patrick explain how they taught her how to suck cock.

"jesus christ." is all art can say. it's not like it makes him respect you less, but he is jealous. he has been right there, a close friend of tashi and patrick's for years, close enough for you to grasp onto him--for years. and you choose patrick. a tale as old as time.

"you okay, artie?" tashi asks. she reaches over the table to touch art's hand.

patrick knows that look on art's face. that seething yet boyish anger that permeates his features. makes him look livid and like a dejected, abandoned little puppy all at once. patrick has only seen that look during situations when art is fucking infuriated. when they were little, it happened when art dropped his ice cream cone. then it became commonplace when art lost a tennis match. and from his adolescence and into early adulthood patrick had only seen it one time--when patrick went on a date with a girl he liked.

but that was a date. an innocuous date to a shitty movie. they never kissed and they never saw each other again. so this look was menacing, it had a bite to it.

but art felt stupid being upset. he had never told anyone about his crush; it felt easier that way, when he was inevitably let down. but patrick had everything--the tennis skills, the wealthy family, the pretty, perfect girlfriend that everyone on campus wanted. it felt like a fucking kick to the stomach to art that he got you too. and of course, to patrick, you were just another notch in his belt.

"fuck." patrick feels awful. he knows how art gets with crushes. idealizes them, let them suffocate his thoughts, self-sabotage, rinse, repeat. he rests his head in his hands. "dude, i didn't know. i'm sorry."

tashi interjects. "what am i missing?"

"art has a crush on her."

"why didn't you tell us we could've-"

art interrupts tashi. "well it's too late now.

"hear me out." nothing good patrick has ever said has started with those words. but art listens. "join us for a lesson."

"do you fucking hear yourself patrick?" art crumples a napkin, throws it on his plate. "i just told you i like this girl--who you're not even romantically involved in beyond corrupting her--and you're saying oh, i can share her with you. like, fuck off."

"will you just listen?"

"no, i won't." he gets up, fumbles with his car keys. "fuck you guys. all you do is think about yourselves. you have these weird fantasies of like, dominating everyone you know. all your relationships have an awkward fucking hierarchy. like, have you ever thought of just being normal? having normal relationships with people? whatever you're doing with her--isn't normal. it's fucking manipulative. and we all know that anything you guys can't manipulate isn't worth your fucking time. so i'll just leave now."

(angsty cliffhanger for dramatic effect)

[reggies-eyeliner]

OKAY AN EXTREMELY SELF-INDULGENT SENSELESS RAMBLE ABOUT JWCT REGARDING GRIEF AND EMOTIONS AND FOUND FAMILY AND COMPLEX CHARACTERS COMING UP AHEAD WOOP WOOP !!!

i cannot stress to you enough. how much i love the way they write processing trauma. like yeah trauma is all silly and angst and whatever but it's a real thing like genuinely and it's exhausting to see shows just dismiss it over and over again but THIS SHOW I SWEAR IT'S JUST. EVERYTHING IS DONE SO SO WELL AND I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL LIKE

and not to mention that the animation SERIOUSLY DOES IT JUSTICE like the expressions are SO GOOD OH MY GOSH LIKE IT'S I'M THEY'RE YEAH THE EXPRESSIONS. ARE INCREDIBLE. that looks darius got in his eyes when he KNEW the password to brooklyn's phone and kenji didn't??? so good SO GOOD and just the way their eyes all shine before they start crying is actually done so well that if you listen carefully you can feel my heart breaking

also i love how like emotional processing is also written so much. all of them aren't afraid to cry and i feel like that's just. yeah it's beautiful. they cry soft they cry loud whatever it is they're comfortable enough to do so and if they're not they at least know they won't be judged for it ARE YOU KIDDING ME I'M GOING TO BITE A TABLE?????

the characters have flaws. i love that so much. the characters are not perfect but they're still likable and it's executed so well. darius' grief is PALPABLE and kenji's anger, albeit sometimes annoying, is so understandable that you can't actually be angry or annoyed with him because the story writing makes you understand. that's incredible. yasmina struggles with anxiety and ptsd and she gets frustrated and that is !! okay !! sammy ignores her emotions and struggles with toxic positivity but we understand *why* she talks to yasmina that way (because she's worried and scared and concerned for her girlfriend, but she's also just as worried of truly addressing what she's been through) so it's so hard to get mad at her. ben is THANJ GOODNESS not mischaracterized as a cinnamon roll and is actually a complex character with complex emotions and i can't get enough of it. he's like a pain he's so annoying sometimes but it's endearing because he reminds you of that one classmate from elementary that makes you go ohhh yeah no it's him that's fine

okay paragraph was getting long but I do have more to say about kenji. the relationships in this show are executed SO WELL and I'm beyond relieved that Kenji and Daniel's relationship was written INCREDIBLY WELL

like. okay first off the asian rep YEAHGHH IT EAS GOOD !!! WOOP WOOP YRAHAHDH HONK HONK the part about kenji saying he should get his violin after daniel was like telling his sob story was SO FUNNY OH MH GOSH

and just. kenji and daniel kon. im. like his dad was never perfect. far from it and yet kenji just he loves him so much and wants to make him proud and it makes me sick because the writing helps you UNDERSTAND why

daniel keeps giving kenji ultimatums and kenji standing up to him for once just. yeah. that was done incredibly well. and then not even ten minutes after daniel started to change and gave his son something without expecting anything in return other than his presence daniel gets eaten alive in front of him.

okay now this show holy moly i was NOT expecting daniel to just. get ripped apart but um YEAH THAT HAPPENED and the grief was written so well I cannot stress this enough. I loathe in movies and shows when they skim past traumatic deaths and just act like the grief is just non existent and this show does an incredible job at showing that it is VERY MUCH STILL THERE and it makes people out there who are struggling feel a little less crazy and that's so beautiful

i've been a benrius enthusiast since day one and honestly at this point i just hope everything goes well for them moving on. brooklyn's death and Darius coping with her grief was done SO SO WELL and honestly okay as much as i love sibling-type dinostar i think rewatching scenes with the lens that he was in love with her just makes it hurt so much and it's just. yeah. it's written well.

I will say that I think the story could have gone on without Darius confessing his love to Brooklyn, and the scene where Kenji asked Darius about the voicemails could have been used solely as a chance to highlight grief. another way the scene could have gone was if kenji sifted through the voicemails and just heard Darius's voice shatter in a way he's never quite heard it or listened to darius blame himself and that could have been a moment for kenji to realize that grief isn't something people should deal with alone, that *he* shouldn't deal with grief alone

regardless i really do think the idea that Darius was in love with Brooklyn was done really well. I don't know a better way for kenji to have figured out the truth, and for that I am grateful :D!! I hope the hardcore shippers don't get too mad though 😭

also I absolutely loved the lady with the whistle. she's cool. her character design is terrifying and the way she treats the dinosaurs reminds me a of a queen that is very fond of her workers like 😭 she's cool but also i would never want her within a 100 mile radius of me

the found family in this show is actually. yeah. it makes me cry because it's just done so well because it doesn't idealize perfect relationships. there are awkward moments, there are sad moments, characters still feel broken and alone despite having people who've actively said that they'd go to the moon and back for them. it's realistic and it's written beautifully

I think Darius might actually be the character with The Writing ever. his grief and his nostalgia, his awkwardness and fascination with learning and his kindness are all things that exist together and I am so so grateful for that. he's allowed to laugh and make jokes while feeling constant, looming guilt. he is fascinated with learning while also struggling to feel like he deserves to be happy, he enjoys learning about dinosaurs while also being terrified of them on the worst days. he feels guilty and feels like a bad person. but he's loved and he's cared for. can you tell he's my favorite now because

enamored with yasmina and sammy as always. they are just the girlfriends ever and i love so much how openly they communicate with each other. sammy apologizes when she makes mistakes, yasmina doesn't hold it against her. they're always at each other's sides and their love isn't conditional. i love them SO MUCH

okay sorry im making this about darius again but this guy actually is The character ever. I don't think I've ever felt so seen in a character and i just yeah the writers are incredible because all of the characters are written to feel relatable, and if not that, to feel real. it was just a huge comfort to me to know that okay im not crazy for feeling this way because of a character, who was written and animated by dozens and dozens of creators was allowed to be written this way, i'm not messed up in the head, im just processing emotions and it's okay that I need help for that

THIS SOUNDS SO CRINGE I AM SO SORRY

but yeah i. i love this show.

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - Ch. 16: The Fool

Art: @mmm-asbestos​ ☆ First 2 chapters ☆ Prev. (Ch. 15)  ☆ AO3

Ch. 16 - The Fool

“Did you have an errand in town or something?” Amy sensed his anxiety.

In minutes, the pair were miles away. They quickly found themselves in town, in the center of a populated shopping area. Some passerby who recognized Sonic began rubbernecking as they milled about. 

He shifted his vision around apprehensively as he allowed Amy to step down from his arms. 

“Do you think he’s tailing us? Don’t think it’s the best idea to bring him right back to your place, considering…”

“I don’t think Eggman has anything fast enough to keep up with you” she started. “Oh- well, not anymore. Besides, you’re hungry, remember?” Amy joked. They stood near a selection of restaurants and cafes.

“Oh- yeah!” Sonic exhaled. “We should give Tails a call, though-”

“Let’s not,” Amy blurted out. It wasn’t exactly how she’d planned it, but this was just the opportunity she needed to be alone with Sonic.

“Huh? Why?” 

“I didn’t bring my communicator,” she tried to sound nonchalant.

“I’ll just run over there-”

Amy dashed past him to a glass storefront, gasping theatrically. “I’ve been wanting to check out this new cafe!”

“Well I was thinking to grab Tails and-”

“Let’s sit down inside!” Amy insisted, pushing her way through the front doors.

Not in an arguing mood, Sonic followed inside begrudgingly. 

A hostess escorted them to a small table by a window. It overlooked a fountain in the square. It was past lunchtime, but a few other pairs lingered in neighboring tables; couples gazing dreamily at each other or sharing desserts. Sonic shifted his own eyes to the window. He fidgeted in his chair.

“So,” Amy sighed, “that was… interesting.”

“No kidding.” He didn’t turn to her.

“He… knows about Metal,” she continued.

Sonic spun back to face her gravely.

“Oh, come on, there’s no way he’s listening to us here. Relax!”

“Guess you’re right.” He turned bleakly back to the window. “What do we do?”

Amy was unsure herself. “Maybe… Going to this grand opening thing won’t be so bad?”

“Come on, Ames, that’s an obvious trap.” Sonic leaned an elbow onto the table and turned to her. “And what about your roommate? Eggman kinda owns him.”

“Metal will make the right choice,” she waved off his question.

He looked skeptical. “Why are you so confident about that?”

“‘Cause,” she trailed off, unclear of her own reasoning. “Well, he barely even remembers right now. I’m not worried about him.”

“Eggman wants him back.” Sonic returned with a concerned frown. “He can’t live with you forever.”

“I know,” Amy replied sheepishly. There hadn’t been much thought put into what exactly was going to happen to Metal, or when. Though she understood Metal couldn’t hang around much longer if she got involved with Sonic. 

“What do you think he wants him for?”

“To… build?” Amy shrugged. “It seems like Eggman’s only priority right now.”

The pair each looked somberly to the window until they caught each other’s eyes in the reflections. Amy  pouted, uncertain of what else to say about the situation. Sonic grinned at his friend gingerly and met her face to face.

“We always figure it out,” he said as confidently as he could manage. “We’re a great team, after all.”

The misgiving situation weighed on Sonic, his usual direct approach to problems ineffective in all the uncertainty. But he was nothing if not a pacesetter for his team. It didn’t do them any good for him to be gloomy.

“Yeah,” Amy smiled with a similar hesitance.

A waiter interrupted them with his introduction. The short minutes they spent ordering lavish sounding drinks and pastries calming Amy and Sonic. By the time the waiter retracted the menus, the two had relaxed in their chairs. They smiled more comfortably now, no less uncertain but confident they could tackle the situation as a team. 

“If Metal’s really on our side, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to send the guy back his bot,” Sonic commented between bites of a croissant.

“If he wants to go back.” Amy took a sip from her tea, lifting her eyes to him over the rim, hesitant about what he’d think of the remark.

“Well if you want him on the team,” Sonic shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not about what I want…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sonic smiled at her knowingly. “Metal can do what he wants. I won’t give him a hard time- if he really isn’t up to something with Eggman.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll talk to him.” Amy was eager to get off the subject. 

“So… what’d you think of the food?”

“Pretty good, I guess.” Sonic took a sip from a tall glass of some kind of local handcrafted soda the waiter had offered as an alternative to tea and coffee. It was the only drink that sounded mildly good to him. “Little fancy, though.”

“Mhm…” 

She reached into her pocket for the all-important card she’d pulled that morning and told herself it was time to broach the subject. Her cheeks felt warm.

“I like it,” she continued, “It’s kinda- I don’t know- romantic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess you could say that.” He took an uncomfortable look around the room, sucking up his drink impetuously. 

Amy brought her cup back to her lips apprehensively. “It’s a cute place for a date. Maybe- maybe we can come back for one sometime?”

A fizzy gulp caused Sonic to cough and clear his throat. Amy blinked at him from behind her teacup, hiding her flushed face, panicking internally.

“I-” he started, pausing to clear his throat a second time. He looked away from her in embarrassment. “I mean, we’re not, uh, dating, though.” A flight response kicked in and he glanced toward the front door.

“But… We could be.” Her words were a demure squeak. “Don’t you think?”

“I’m gonna be heading back to Tails’, I think-”

“Sonic.” Amy set down the cup. She swallowed. “Can we try?”

Sonic steadied himself with a deep breath. It felt wrong to continue dodging the matter. He met her pleading face with a poignant seriousness he didn’t often display.

“Amy, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” he said plainly.

Expecting some hesitancy on his part, she pushed on. “Aw, but we’d be so good together! You even said we make such a great team!”

“We do, but-”

“And we’ve known each other for so long! Think of all that history! We’ve always been there for each other and stayed friends even when I was, well, a little obsessed- But you stuck around and that meant so much to me! And-”

“Stop.” Sonic clanked his glass on the table between them. “All this romantic stuff putting everything at stake- I can’t do it, Amy. Much less with you.”

The response left her taken aback, even more than she could have predicted. “So… it’s a problem because it’s me?”

“Sort-of- I-”

She sat upright, loudly clanking her teacup on the table. “And it’s not just because you don’t like me?” Amy’s eyes began to sting as tears threatened to well up. 

Sensing an outburst, Sonic leaned away nervously. Being on the receiving end of Amy’s anger was never an enviable position to be in. “Uh…”

“Well? What’s so wrong with dating me? Are you still mad about how immature I was back when we met or something?”

“No! Listen, Amy, I don’t like you that way,” he searched for the right words, frantically and unsuccessfully. “And even if I did, I just don’t think I could ever be in that kind of relationship with you. You’re-”

“I’m what?” Angry tears escaped the moment she stood up abruptly. Her chair screeched against the floor loudly, attracting the attention of the diners around them. “I’m not good enough for you somehow?” 

“Amy, that’s not fair,” he scolded. “You know that’s not what I was about to say!”

“What’s not fair is that you always reject me and never tell me why.” She threw her napkin against the table to free her hands, digging through her pocket aggressively. “But I get it now.”

“Amy, come on, please-” Sonic lowered his head in embarrassment as whispers circulated around them. He lowered his voice.

“Please what? Please stop being so loud and obnoxious? Stop being a pest? Stop,” a sob gave her pause, anger melting into heartbreak. “Stop being an annoying little rascal around you?”

The other patrons were staring daggers at them. Sonic melted further into his seat. “This is why I didn’t want to go out,” he muttered. “I was trying to avoid this-”

“Seriously? Ugh!” Amy scoffed, indignant and deeply frustrated. In that moment, that embarrassingly public moment, the only sensible explanation for his rejection were the parts she hated about herself. Her angry outbursts, the insufferable clinginess. Tears continued their path down her cheeks as she dug through her pockets again. Finding the bills she was after, Amy tossed a fistfull onto the table. 

The back of her gloves became smudged with makeup as Amy fiercely wiped at her eyes and cheeks. At least she could manage not to sob her way out. At least she wouldn’t add pathetic to the list of her flaws. “I’m leaving!”

“Amy, wait!” Sonic shot up from his seat. “I didn’t mean that-”

“Don’t follow me!”she cried, asserting herself past the hostess and front door. She felt everyone’s eyes on her back, right until the door shut loudly behind her.

Once she was out of sight, all those eyes briefly turned back to Sonic. The other guests began muttering to each other or turning away with secondhand embarrassment. 

More than the outburst itself, Sonic immediately felt self-conscious about his response to Amy’s distress, letting all those nosy strangers get in the way.

He sighed at the crumpled notes on the table, letting the public shame wash over him. Amid the wadded bills, he spotted a familiar symbol adorning the back of a creased card. Recognizing it as part of Amy’s deck, Sonic picked it from clutter. 

Flipping it on its face, he grimaced at the irony. 

“The fool, huh? Man…”

In the square, Amy stomped through walkways and around pedestrians. Her cloudy sights were set on the nearby bus stop. The last thing she wanted to do was sob on public transportation, but what choice did she have?

She planted her hunched form on the bus stop’s only bench. A man in a pressed suit stood nearby and ogled for a few moments, turning and stepping away only after being met by a snapping, fiery glare from the sad-looking girl. 

“That’s what I thought,” she grumbled, bowing her head back down onto her palms.

For however much she tried, there was no holding back the floodgates. She sat breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. But her eyes spilled over with tears, leaking between her fingers and onto her lap. Her face was red hot. She didn’t even want to think about how she looked. 

Just as she’d resolved to breathe through her woes until she got home, Amy caught a familiar whirring growing closer overhead.

Amy sat up, quickly wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Sitting on her hands to hide her dirty gloves, she spotted him. 

“Metal,” she sniffled, “what are you doing in town?”

Metal floated toward the bench, touching down just next to her. 

She spun away from him, trying desperately to tidy herself up. She was hardly excited to explain her current state.

Sensing something was off, Metal leaned in for a closer look at her.

“Um… a- a-choo!” Amy forced a sneeze. “Sorry, I have some allergies,” she lied. “All the pollen this time of year…”

That was strange to Metal, being that Amy always seemed to have her nose in some kind of spring bouquet. He was about to press further when she sneezed again.

“I don’t have any tissues with me,” Amy blubbered. “It’s sorta embarrassing…” That much was true.

Rather than question it, Metal scanned their surroundings for a solution. He spotted the man who’d been staring at Amy moments earlier once again gawking, this time at both of them. Metal hardly noticed the man’s gaze, however, more preoccupied with the neatly folded pocket square adorning the front of his jacket. He started toward the man.

Realizing the danger, the guy backed away, holding up his palms in surrender. He grinned awkwardly at the menacing robot approaching him to cut the tension.

It didn’t stop Metal. He pointed at the man’s chest, indicating the blazer’s front pocket. He then held up his palm in command.

The man looked around frantically for the possibility that he could be approaching someone else, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Not understanding Metal’s intentions, the man rustled through his pockets in a panic. 

As Metal closed in on him, the man whipped out his wallet, shakily holding it out and turning his face away from the frightening sight.

Believing himself to be in the middle of a mugging, the man finally pleaded meekly, something about taking the wallet. Metal ignored him and his outstretched hand and instead reached forward towards the cowering man’s chest. The man shut his eyes.

Metal snatched the pocket square out of the man’s jacket pocket and promptly forgot about his existence as he rotated back around to Amy. 

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, holding the crisply folded handkerchief in front of her. She raised a brow, confused at the gesture.

 She turned to him. “Where did you get that?”

As Amy took hold of the pocket square, she caught sight of the man cowering nearby. She gasped in realization.

“Is this his?!”

The man’s eyes snapped open, only just understanding what had occurred. He patted at his chest, realizing he’d been robbed of a mere square of fabric. 

“Sir!” 

Amy shot up, intending to return the stolen accessory, but the man quickly turned and ran off with a squeal as he noticed he was being approached once again.

“Sir! Oh, come on…”

Amy turned her attention back to her friend, shocked at what had just occurred.

“Metal! You can’t just take some random creep’s handkerchief!”

Metal stared at her blankly. He analyzed her flushed cheeks and watery eyes, ignoring her protests. Her gloves were stained front and back with makeup. Was she just crying?

Perturbed, Amy turned away, one again feigning a sneeze. She brought the handkerchief up to her face out of habit. “Well, I guess he’s not gonna be coming back, so…”

Unhappy with the circumstances, Amy wiped away her tears in resignation. The whole scene at least distracted her from her woes- and it was better than blubbering into her damp gloves. She folded the square away into her pocket and looked to Metal.

“Thanks for the tissue, but please promise you won’t go around snatching people’s things,” she managed calmly, 

Metal continued to study her expression. He concluded that she was decidedly composed and he could’ve been mistaken about her emotional state. But now there were these supposed allergies to worry about-

“Metal? Hello?” Amy waved a hand in front of him, vexed by the lack of response. “Are you listening?”

He nodded instinctively. It wasn’t what he was focused on.

“Anyway,” Amy sighed. “Did you have an errand or something?”

Metal shook his head and gestured to her with an open palm, clad in his new gloves.

The gesture confused her for a moment, but quickly understood what he had to say. “Oh… did you come just to get me?” 

He nodded.

Amy tilted her head with some uncertainty. “How did you know I was here…?”

There was no simple way to explain it to her. He didn’t understand it himself, in fact. Just a few minutes prior, he felt an urgent need to come to this precise spot to find her. It was as if he’d received a signal with a command. So, he rushed over, flying faster than he had for as long as he could recall. It felt almost out of his control, his body propelling him to meet her here. An unexplainable urge. A hunch, he’d heard such a feeling called.

Not knowing any other way to answer, he performed his characteristic shrug and reached closer toward her with his still outstretched hand. 

Amy couldn’t help but giggle. His cryptic and limited responses were charming, in a way. 

“Well, thanks for picking me up.” She took his hand. It beated taking the bus.

They took off in what was becoming a typical way for Amy and Metal to travel together. It was even more comfortable now that his pointy claws were under wraps. It felt like floating to Amy, who didn’t even have time to recall her sorrow; they arrived at her front door in no time.

“By the way, Metal, I wanna talk to you about today,” she said as he allowed her down. She reached for her front door, continuing. “I gotta call Tails, too. We should all chat about-”

The door eased open. Amy couldn’t believe her eyes. 

There must not have been a mug, tumbler, or bowl that wasn’t filled with spring blooms. Lilies sprouted out of drinking glasses and a bushel of peonies practically spilled out of her biggest sauce pot. The bushiest of hyacinth stems poked out of the top of an empty wine bottle. Mason jars sat on every inch of her counter filled with daisies, daffodils, and primroses. Every counter, every chair- every conceivable surface of her home was littered with flowers. Unprecedented and breathtaking.

She stood at the door, speechless. Amy forgot all about the conversation she was about to propose, along with her rejection, the stressful mission, and her “allergies.” 

Metal stood back, observing; apprehensive. She’d just had a reaction, and here was every type of flower he could find within a 100-mile radius diffusing pollen into her home. He reached out, intending to hold her back.

But it didn’t stop her. Amy practically sprinted toward the living space, rustling through every vessel, burying her face in as many bunches as she could get her hands on. She gasped and sputtered as she went. 

Radiating joy, she looked back to Metal. “You got all these? For me?” 

Metal nodded at her tensely from the doorway.

Amy erupted with laughter. “It’s amazing!”

Though muddled by it, her positive response put Metal at ease as he followed her inside.

“Thank you!” She twirled around, taking stock of all the bouquets. “Where did you find so many? Look at these peonies, and those hyacinths, and the daffodils, and- and-” 

Her eyes landed on the small bunch of assorted wildflowers she’d received from Sonic that morning. 

“-and…” 

She trailed off, stroking a little blue cornflower from the motley assortment. They sat next to her one other proper vase, stuffed neatly with pink tulips.

Bittersweet tears flooded her eyes. A conflicted sob escaped her as they flowed down into her smile.

Amy’s emotions had overwhelmed her by the time Metal reached her across the room. He took a cautious step back when he realized her cheeks were already soaked.

For however conflicted she felt about the day’s events, Amy was overjoyed at the thoughtful gesture. There was nothing to do but throw her arms around Metal with all the affection she possessed. 

Not anticipating tears, Metal hesitated for a moment. But she clutched and squeezed him with an intensity which he thought could practically crush him. He was as impressed with her strength as he was concerned for her.

Metal wrapped an arm around her slowly. Carefully, he reached a finger to her cheek, catching a tear as it spilled from her eye. 

She sniffled, breathing deeply. “Oh, me? Don’t worry,” Amy turned her damp eyes up to him, still beaming. She laughed. “It’s just allergies!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me in may: hehe I will have so much time to myself this summer i will be able to write sooo much

Me in june: (takes the hardest class I've ever done in my entire life)

Me in july: (builds an entire kitchen)

Me in aug: (gets married)

Me in sep: (picks up twice as many responsibilities at work because the assistant quit)

but hey I got married and we later went to LA to see Sonic Symphony! So it's been a good summer/autumn so far. Other than you know. working 6 days a week. eugh

[astarionxhappiness]

This is my first piece of writing in about five or so years, so thank you Astarion for giving me that fire again.

I did my best to find all the typos, but this was written on my phone at about 1 AM while half asleep, and autocorrect is a bitch, so bear with me.

Prompt: you have a bad past of sexual abuse, but catch feelings for Astarion.

Word Count: A little over 4,000 words

Warnings: mentions of sexual abuse if you squint a bit. Fluff. Lots of fluff.

The two of you had been traveling together for some time now. And while you had gotten of to a rocky start, you felt that you had grown a rather strong bond over the past months.

Though you supposed that facing constant and never ending threats, as well as having a tadpole connecting your very minds could do that to anyone.

Having to constantly put your life into another's hands like that. . All of your trust. And in turn, they offered you the same.

It had been years since you had felt such trust for a person. Such faith and warmth. And to a vampire spawn no less.

The thought made you smile to yourself with great amusement, biting your bottom lip absently and tugging.

Perhaps it wasn't even putting your trust in a vampire spawn. . Perhaps it felt funny to find yourself putting your trust in him.

"What's so funny?"

The words knocked you from your daze, bringing your attention back to the world around you.

The sound of the crackling fire, the uncomfortable log making your ass sore the longer you remained seated on it. The night air chilling your skin through the thin fabric of your tunic.

"Tav?" Astarion's voice sounded again, ever demanding. His tone made you look over at him quickly.

"You keep doing that today. . Are you falling ill or something?" You did not offer a response to this rhetorical question, knowing it was asked out of fussiness from being ignored, rather than genuine concern.

"I'm just thinking," you replied, glancing over at him again. "Nothing is funny."

You had had a hard time looking at him all day. You knew it had to do with the dream you had had the night before, though you were still having trouble admitting it to yourself.

The very memories of it made you feel flush.

"Oh?" He quirked a brow as he gazed at you from the corner of his eye, his head tilted back in a manner that showed off his jaw nicely.

"And what is it you're thinking about so intently then, hm? It must be something quite interesting to have you so distracted." The suggestive smile and knowing glint in his eye made you flush, looking away bashfully.

"Whatever you think it is, I can assure you it isn't that," you replied with vehemence, listening to him burst into musical laughter.

"Oh, it truly is so much fun to tease you, darling" he replied, tilting his head to look at you, a smile dancing on his lips that showed off his fangs.

"So what was it, then? If not the idea of me ravishing your body?" He had been making such jokes more and more for weeks now, but the immersion did nothing to stop your face from going red once more, forcing you to look away from him so he wouldn't see.

Not that it truly mattered. You knew he could tell exactly what your reaction was. Hence the reason he loved to make comments.

"Astarion, could I ask you something?" You found the nervous words leaving your mouth before you could stop them, making your body tense.

Your head remained bowed, gazing intently at your lap.

The smile fell from his lips, a look of uncertain curiosity taking place in his features instead.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He asked, making you wring your hands together.

"Do you. . Do you actually like being with people?" The question made him pause for just a moment before a smile cracked the far more real expression that had come before it.

A breathless laugh left his lips.

"Of course," he replied, unwilling to admit to the possibility that that was in fact a lie.

He felt the question was building to something more, and he was unwilling to make himself unavailable should you want him.

His eyes squinted slightly in curiosity when you offered little more than a nod of your head, wringing your hands together.

"So. . So you enjoy. . Being touched?" You glanced over at him, tensing harder when you found his inquisitive gaze already looking back at you.

"Why are you asking me these things my sweet?" He asked. "Is it perhaps. . Because you really would like for me to touch you?" He brought his hand out to very lightly cover your wrist, making your breath catch.

Silence grew thickly between the two if you as your response to the question remained stuck firmly in your throat.

You startled violently when footsteps sounded from off to your left, followed by Wyll's voice.

"Are you two coming to eat? Gale's just finished cooking. " He hesitated as he spoke, watching Astarion's hand slide subtly off your wrist.

"I am actually not feeling particularly well," you replied, flustered as you got to your feet. "Excuse me." They both watched you go, having similar expressions if uncertainty as Astarion stood up next to Wyll.

You remained in your tent for the remainder of the evening, listening to the others talking and laughing over warm food.

You shivered absently as you laid on your bedroll, the thick furs feeling less warm than usual. You hoped that it was simply the nights getting colder, but you had a feeling it was rather your thoughts giving the impression of warmth leaving your body.

You shut your eyes, your fingers tracing the palm of your other hand tucked by your face as you heard Astarion reciting one of his favorite stories to the others, undoubtedly keeping the company of a nice glass of wine.

The tips of your fingers traced down to your wrist where his hand had covered just a few hours before, your mind wandering back to the dream that had corrupted your thinking all day.

You had sworn off touch long ago. Your experience with it being only violent and cruel.

You did not want it.

A simple brush of the shoulder led to temptation of touching one's arm. Then, perhaps the urge to move in closer. Feel their breath against your skin, inhale their scent. .

These were temptations that people seemed incapable to control.

No! You wouldn't risk it! Not again! Not ever again.

You would not be used for another's pleasure.

And yet. . Astarion had touched you, had he not? Not just tonight, but other times as well. Whether it was catching you mid trip, protecting you in a fight . . even waking you from a nightmare or two. .

You took in a deep breath as these memories crossed your mind. The feel of his hands clutching your shoulders, his soothing, concerned voice as he tried to calm you down.

You had felt faint that night, waking with the air out of your lungs.

You had fallen against him, your hands shaking, weakly grasping at his arms as you tried not to faint. You could still feel the sensation of your temple resting against his broad chest. The feeling of his cool hand coming to rest on the side if your head.

He had never stopped talking while you worked through your panic attack. Plenty of it was not actually comforting, but the simple sound of his voice grounded you. And his touch made you feel drunk.

You had pushed those feelings away after that night. but after your dream, after the vivid sensation of his touch against your skin, his soft voice easing your tension. . You knew the sensation. It was too vivid not to have been spawned from a memory.

That feeling of safety. . Never had you expected to ever feel it in your life. .

You bit your lip as you curled in on yourself, wrapping an arm around your torso.

If your fears were right, and all touching always led to pain and violence, then why had Astarion never tried anything?

Even tonight, the touch had been. . Gentle. Hesitant, almost. Offering the option for you to pull away if you so pleased.

But you didn't. Something about it felt right. Like having a taste of water when you didn't realize just how thirsty you were.

Perhaps. . Just maybe, it was possible to find safety with him.

You trusted him with your life, after all.

And from things he had told you in the past, you got the feeling he would understand the fear you had of being taken advantage of more than anyone.

Your attention was grabbed by the sounds of everyone getting ready to head to bed, most likely due to the rain that had begun falling, making it's presence known to you by tapping rhythmically against your tent.

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach twisting at the resolve you made.

You would just ask him. What was the worst that could happen?-

You had to stop your brain from answering this question.

It took you a little under ten minutes to harden your resolve.

You kicked off the thick fur blanket, stuffed your feet in your unlaced boots, and headed for the vampire's tent across the camp from yours.

Except, by the time your feet stopped in front of his tent, your resolve had weakened once more, leaving you standing in the dark with rain slowly absorbing into the thin layers of your clothes.

You were already shaking with nerves by the time that thunder boomed in the sky so loudly it had you yelping in surprise, your mind having been far more preoccupied with other things than the lightning overhead. flinging yourself through the flap of fabric that covered the entrance of his tent, you froze as you laid eyes on the man laying in the dim lamp light.

Your entrance made Astarion look up with a start from the spot on his bed, his finger marking the page of his book he had been reading.

He looked confused by your odd entrance, though your meek posture and flushed skin made him smile at you. It rather made your head dizzy and your feet want to run.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted, his tone ever seductive. "I figured I would be seeing you again tonight." He shut his book in a way that had you wondering how many times he had practiced the motion in order to get just the right amount of seduction out of it.

He was. . Everything that you were not in such moments.

Confident, charismatic, smooth and seductive. Experienced, and more or less functioning.

You looked down, hands clasped before you.

"I-i didn't mean to bother you," you whispered, finding yourself far more nervous than you normally were.

"I just. . I wanted to ask you. ." You shut your eyes as your cheeks went bright red.

He couldn't help but notice the soft tremor rattling your body. Your meek position was not one he often saw you possessing. Only in moments when you were truly terrified or nervous about something.

It was, much to his horror, rather.. endearing.

He had only seen you in such a state a spare few times, but when he did, he had the odd urge to handle whatever it was causing it.

And in this case, he felt certain that the thing causing you trouble, he could definitely take care of.

He stood up, moving over to you, making your heart beat quicken with nerves.

He had a way of looming that made you want to flee.

When you flinched back from him, suddenly rethinking if your request was such a good idea, you watched to your great surprise as he took a step back, frowning.

"Are you scared of me?" He asked with sudden realization.

The action had not been made out of anticipation, or longing. No. . People did not flinch like that unless they expected something unpleasant to happen.

You looked up at him with round, horrified eyes.

"No!" You replied quickly, your body trembling a bit harder.

"I- no, of course not, I just-" he turned his head to the right slightly as he continued to look at you, frowning as he brows furrowed.

"I just get- nervous, with people. . Touching me," you finally managed to get out, sounding royally ashamed.

You had survived an illithid tadpole swimming around in your skull, the crashing of a ship you you were on only because of being abducted, countless perilous fights, and even knocked the head off of one or two goblins without ever skipping a beat.

But this. Proximity to someone that had never once tried to murder you, or handle you in a way you didn't want to be handled. . This terrified you?

It was only then that he realized you had always avoided being touched by others. You had never shown interest in any form of romance, or even friendly pats on the shoulder by the others in your little party.

You had always managed to casually and seamlessly avoid such interactions.

"Why do you get nervous being touched?" He asked, though he had his suspicions. "I assure you, love, there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of." He offered his hand out to you, but made no further attempt at contact. Remaining a respectful distance from you.

You looked away, a part of you desperately wanting to reach out and grasp his hand, feel the sensation that you had found yourself desperate to for.

You did not, however. You remained rigidly shaking in place as you looked away.

"You. . You said that Cazador, . . That he made you do things you didn't want to do? With him? And. . Others? " You whispered nervously.

It had been a conversation you had had with him some weeks ago, out on a ledge relaxing beneath the stars while the others slept.

He frowned at the mention, dropping his hand when the offer was not accepted.

"Yes," he replied, seeming slightly more guarded. "Why?"

You tensed as another roar of thunder raged in the sky, your eyes shutting.

"Well- someone. . Someone did things to me. To hurt me, and- and use me-" you looked up at him, eyes round and nervous, a part of you expecting to be met with disgust.

The expression you were met with however, was one of a silent understanding. The defense in his gaze softened.

Though the bitterness remained, you felt certainty that it was not directed towards you.

"I see," he replied, his suspicions finally being confirmed.

"So why are you here, then?" He tilted his head back slightly. "Trying to rewrite the pain in your past?" He guessed. "Well, I'm okay with that. Happy to be of service, darling." He offered you a charming smile as his weight shifted to one hip, his hand coming up to hang loosely at the wrist.

"No, actually," you replied, watching the false happiness slip off his features. "I-. . I wanted to ask if. . You would want. . " you scrunched your face, looking tortured.

"I can read your thoughts if you'd rather not say it aloud," he offered when you fell silent.

You looked only more pained by this offer, but nodded mutely, opening your mind to him as the request was caught in your throat.

He shut his eyes was he felt the connection take hold, swimming in your thoughts to latch on to the question stuck in your mind.

"Do I want to cuddle?" He demanded in confusion, taking an affronted step back, letting out a breathless laugh as he looked at you.

You tensed, shaking just a little harder at his reaction, your stomach twisting in a manner that made you glad you had not eaten that evening.

"I-. . No one's ever asked me that before," he went on, the vehemence in his voice dissipating as he looked at you, features taking on more trouble attributes.

He looked at you quietly, your small form shivering, your clothes clinging to your body wetly, making him wonder how long you had been outside his tent, too scared to come in and ask for such an odd. . Innocent, request.

The strange part was, it. . Sounded rather pleasant.

You had never asked anything of him before. You offered loyalty to him and never asked for anything in return. Not even his own loyalty to you.

You had fought for him. Saved him. Cared for his wounds, and been there for him in moments when he felt he could open up.

"I-" he hesitated as you stayed silently staring at him, waiting for something bad to happen.

He did not need an tadpole to read the nervousness and fear in your mind.

"-i think I would rather like tjat," he found himself genuinely admitting.

He offered his hand again to you, his demeanor soft and delicate. The same demeanor he had offered when he held you when you couldn't catch a healthy rhythm with your breathing.

You looked down at his hand, hesitantly stepping forward and putting your hand over his, feeling a rush if excitement and longing rush through you as you felt his fingers wrap gently around your hand.

You took another step closer to him, your mind almost blank as you shut your eyes, and wordless pressed your body against his in a gentle, soothing hug.

He hesitated as you did this, fairly certain no one had ever hugged him before this very moment.

It felt. . Warm. . Comforting, almost.

Safe.

He wrapped his arm around you after a moment of uncertainty, the hold tenuous and hesitant.

He kept your hand in his, pressed between your bodies up against your chests.

He shut his eyes, feeling himself melting into the embrace.

When you pulled away finally and looked up at him, he quietly used your hand still in his to tug you with him towards the bed on the ground. He sat down on top of the blanket, looking up at you wordlessly, his hand still tenderly grasping yours.

You took in a deep breath, looking down at him intently as you sat on the ground in front of him on folded legs, taking in another deep breath with nervous giddiness from the proximity.

It felt just as you had dreamed it. The warmth, the tenderness. .

You leaned forward for what Astarion instinctively expected to be a kiss, but found himself freezing when you pressed your forehead tenderly against his, your eyes shutting.

The soft little breaths you took in to try and calm yourself, soaking up the touch in a manner that clearly felt euphoric- it was not things that went unnoticed by the vampire spawn.

You were. . Positively adorable. The gentle way you hesitantly brought your hands up to let the very tips of your fingers touch either side of his face. The soft, earnest expression you wore as you soaked up the feeling of being touched . .

He shut his eyes, bringing his hands up to gently cover your hands, feeling your tadpole reaching out to his, should he want it.

Curious, he reached out, and felt himself tale an inhale as a feeling of warmth washed over him.

Feelings of care, and trust. understanding, and longing.

But not for the thing most people wanted from him. . It was a longing to be to see, as well as be seen. A longing for understanding.

He brought his hand to press against the mid of your back, gentle and coaxing, you slowly agreed to the request, and let him guide your body to press against his.

The touch felt so different than usual. Perhaps it was the connection of the tadpole, but it felt warm, and safe

You felt safe.

He had never felt such a sensation before in his life. To genuinely trust someone. To care for them.

There were small, subtle glimpse of pain in your thoughts. Ones that he found he wanted to prod at further, but resisted.

He brushed his nose against yours mindlessly, and you returned the action, feeling entranced as he opened his own mind mind you in return, letting you see how cared for you were with him.

You melted further into the touch, slipping your arms around his back, a hand coming up to the back of his hair mindlessly to play with the soft silver locks.

He brought his hands to your sides, keeping you pressed against him as he carefully headed backwards so you rested down on top of him, his fingers coming to run along the divot of your spine.

Wrapping your leg around him, you settled comfortably against him, the heaviness of your body on top of him feeling like a pleasant weighted blanket.

He let his hands roam along your wet clothes before making their way into your damp hair.

He wanted to ask how long exactly you had been out there to have gotten so wet, be he refrained, simply listening to the rain hit the tent as you both soaked up the comforting touch.

You folded the blanket up around the two of you after a time, and felt him roll you both a moment later.

You opened your eyes softly to look at him, gently resting your forehead against his once kore, though there was no tadpole connecting you this time.

"If you ever want someone," you whispered, bringing your fingers up to tenderly touch his cheek. "If you ever want to talk, or just. . Have someone to be with, I am here." You brushed your nose against his, watching his lids fall half closed.

He looked like he wanted to respond, but was perhaps, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words.

He felt an overwhelming sense for gratitude towards the offer. He had told you things before, but it had been in moments of weakness, or because it was necessary.

He had never shared just because.

"Well," he finally whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "This. . Offer, goes for you as well." He looked down, clearly trying his best, but having a hard time with more vulnerability.

"Thank you," you murmured, inching a little closer. "I'm. . Astarion, I'm so sorry, for everything you had to go through." The words were spoken with great feeling, your heart aching thinking about of of the things be had admitted to happening.

"It's in the past now, well isn't it," he replied, stroking your cheek. "But. . Thank you, love," he added with a great deal more hesitancy.

You smiled slightly, which he found did odd things to his insides.

He sighed mentally to himself. He was not going to allow himself to feel things things for you- he couldn't.

You were just-

His breathing froze as you shifted up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and head as you shifted him so his head rested against your chest, the position feeling incredibly shielding and warm.

He felt his stomach twist, his throat strangely tight.

He wrapped his arm around your torso hesitantly after a moment, apprehensive.

No one had ever- held him before. It was not how this worked-

And yet. . He found his eyes falling shut with sudden exhaustion.

He cursed you, unsure what exactly it was about your touch that had him feeling so. . Melty. But it was unaccept-

Singing?

His ears perked up slightly, distracted from his thoughts as a sweet, soft melody gripped his attention instead.

His body eased to rest more heavily against you as his muscles relaxed.

Perhaps. . It would be okay just to relax and enjoy for a little while? And then he could get back to his plotting and manipulations later. .

He took in a deep breath, feeling your fingers touching his hair tentatively, running the tips of them through the outer layers of the silvery strands.

The soft vibration of your chest as you switched between signing and humming different parts of the song had him entranced.

You kept your gaze on him as you did so, feeling your stomach twisting with giddiness.

This had been it. It was just like you had dreamed. . The feeling of his arms around you, the dim light of the lantern casting calming shadows.

The tender, warm touch with none of the unpleasantness.

It was everything you had been craving and more.

You shut your eyes after a time, feeling him slowly heating against you as he slipped off into peaceful slumber.

You slipped down sleepily after nearly an hour of just enjoying the position of holding him safely in your arms.

You felt him shift in his sleep as you settled down against him, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you close.

You pressed your forehead against his softly, eyes shutting, feeling his breath tickle your face with every slow exhale.

You let your leg rest loosely in-between his, wrapping your arm around his waist before settling.

You slipped off a little while later to join him in slumber, the soft drumming of the rain and rumbling thunder in the distance lulling you to sleep.

[killsaki]

final girl. ☆ surely all the girls being murdered in your town having something that fits your own description is a coincidence… right?

izuku midoriya x female!reader

4k words | part 2 (tbp)

cw/tw : yandere!izu, quirkless/loserboy!izu, stuttering, stalking, drugging, thighfucking, facial, male masturbation, noncon, somnophilia (kinda), alcohol, oc side character, kidnapping, murder (mentions).

“you’re not seriously going out, are you?” comes from your doorway, you turn towards the voice in just enough time to catch sight of your roommate inviting himself into your room, as he always does, before plopping himself down on your mattress.

you sigh before answering, knowing he’s about to spout some of his repetitive nonsense.

“of course i am, fuzen.” he blinks at you with his usual unamused expression, heterochromatic eyebrows slightly raised in a way that you’ve come to learn is a signal for you to ask more about what he’s saying. you take the bait. “but, why do you ask?”

“you’re the target of that serial killer.” you purse your lips at his immediate and dramatic response to stop yourself from laughing, you really shouldn't entertain him all the time. he’s mentioned a few things that could probably cost him his job for disclosing the, in his words, eerie similarities, that you have had with all the victims of recent murders.

it started with things like how they all had your eye color, or that they were all described to have your height and build. you passed those off as generic things, but fuzen didn’t. it spiraled into things as specific as one of them having your hair. well, their hair, but it was the same length as yours, the same color, and her body was found with it styled with the same way that you’d fallen in loved with and wore repeatedly that week. one girl was found with copies of the jewelry that you frequently wore, another even had her nails done almost exactly like your new set.

the longer it went on, the more insistent your roommate became about you listening to what he had to say. but you always changed the subject, figuring that the less you know the easier it’ll be to shake off the cold feeling on your back you sometimes get after leaving the apartment.

“i thought you were a stealth sidekick,” you laugh him off, yet again. ”when did you get demoted to a detective?”

“why does your room feel weird?” he asks suddenly, adjusting his sitting position like he’s been made uncomfortable while he looks around your space. “has someone been in here?”

“uh, yeah, me.” you suck your teeth at him before turning back to your vanity and get back to finishing getting ready.

“why don’t you believe me?” he asks, you can tell he’s a little irritated and it makes you feel bad for always brushing him off.

“‘zen… i know you care about me, i’m sorry.” you meet his gaze in the mirror, finding him already looking back at you. “maybe you’re just overthinking because you care about me?”

he nods slowly, before cracking a grin and shaking his head, “nah, i’m probably just jealous because i don’t have a stalker.” he rolls his neck and you wonder how much truth is in his words. “though i’d probably prefer it without the murder.”

“i don’t have a stalker.” you retort while he chuckles to himself before standing.

“you know,” he stretches his arms, fingertips touching the ceiling as the hem of his shirt lifts to reveal his toned stomach, something you quickly look away from. “that habit of immediately denying stuff that you’re anxious about is gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

his mouth is good at keeping you from being attracted to the rest of him.

“but not today,” you speak matter of fact, “because i do not have a stalker.”

“right, yeah.” he sniggers, clearly not believing a word from you. “didn’t you say you felt like you were being followed home the other night? you should think harder on the description—”

“anyways!” you cut him off, knowing that he’s not going to stop talking unless you make him. sometimes you’re not sure if he actually likes having conversations with you or just the sound of his own voice. “shouldn’t you get back to tying some red thread between the pictures and articles hung up on your wall mr. detective.”

“fuck off.” he flips you off from where he’s now lurking by your dresser, leaning against it as he’s focused on checking his phone. “i know you think i’m joking, but they put me on the west end so i’ll be patrolling over by the party if you–”

“oh! my rides here,” you lie, jumping up to slip past him and out of the conversation. “so, i’ll text you when i make it back home since you’ll be on patrol and i won’t see you again tonight, right?”

“wait!” he calls after you, annoyed by your sudden escape, as you slip on your shoes. “text me if something happens with your ride and i’ll walk you back!”

“bye, fuzen!” you yell back, walking out the door. “love you!”

/// /// ///

maybe… fuzen wasn’t just talking to hear his voice. maybe, there’s a small possibility that you do have a stalker.

you could chalk it all up to your roommate giving you anxiety about the whole situation, or that you’ve had a few too many already. but you can’t deny the fact that from the moment you stepped out of your apartment building until you climbed into your ride’s car, you felt something watching you.

it was a hot gaze, a familiar one. it could’ve been a neighbor, you reasoned to yourself as you waited for kirishima to arrive, and that theory sounded best as you repeated it to yourself at the party, laughing with him and his friends and downing drink after drink. until the chill on the back of your neck reappeared, despite how warm your blood is from the alchol. and no matter how much you looked over your shoulder to try and find some kind of source for it, there just wasn’t anyone there.

“you good?” sero asks when you fail to reply to your name being called.

“huh?” you turn to him to find the whole group looking at you with concern, your face flushes at how ridiculous you must look, being so skittish. “oh, i’m fine,” you force a laugh, hoping it seems genuine. “think i just had a little bit too much.”

“no sweat.” kirishima nods towards the glass door behind him and you try to ignore how sero and denki exchange glances. “let’s go get some air.”

“yeah, okay.” you hope the earth swallows you whole as you follow behind him.

you regret coming, regret not shutting your door while getting ready, regret letting fuzen talk his mouth off at you for so long about it. you’ll chew him out about it tomorrow.

you take a deep breath as you walk out the glass door, kirishima’s large palm rubbing soothingly on your back helps settle the nerves. there’s a comforting warmth that takes over the anxious heat as you lean into him.

“sorry i’m being weird.” you mumble as he guides you into his chest, melting into him and the sound of his steady heart beat.

“you’re fine,” you feel the arm holding his cup raise, the pause between his words meaning his downing the rest of his drink that smells way too strong. “don’t worry about it.”

the two of you sway for a bit, his arms around you and your head on his chest with the muffled music as ambiance.

it could be blamed on the alcohol but in this moment, you’re thankful you have kirishima. thankful for how it took absolutely no time at all for you to get comfortable with him, how it felt like an instant connection when he silently prompted the two of you to play tictactoe in the margine of your notes. something that quickly snowballed from passing messages to walking you back to your dorm, and then hang outs as his frat house.

he’s always offered himself as a stress relief for you, making sure you’re comfortable while you’re with him and pressing you about it any time that you seemed tense. there’s been a few awkward moments where you thought he’d tried making a pass at you but he’s always been quick to clarify. plus he’s so warm, like… really warm. his arms feel like a blanket around you. god, how is someone so big and bulky also so soft? you could probably fall asleep like this, surrounded by him.

“hey.” you’re pulled from your thoughts, and from where you were tucked into him. “you knocking out on me?”

“sorry.” you giggle, at his ever playful expression. “you’re just so comfortable.”

the smirk on his face is a harmless one, you think. and it’s awfully pretty.

“bakugou needs me at the beer pong table.”

“i don’t need you, fucker.” you hear the blonde shout from where he stands at the door. did he yell at him before too? “they just don’t want me to embarrass them by beating their asses by myself.”

kirishima laughs. ”you stayin’ out here?” you hesitate, but nod. you feel better, but the thought of facing his friends again so fast is a little too intimidating. “i wont let anyone come out here and fuck with you.” he squeezes your hip before chasing his friend inside. “come watch me when you’re ready!” the redhead calls to you from where he now hangs out the door, his toothy grin clear as day even from this distance.

you only wave back, your dizziness telling you it’s not a good idea to raise your voice right now.

you let yourself stumble back against the wall before pulling your phone out. you try three times to call fuzen and it immediately cancels before you realize you have no service where you’re standing. you curse under your breath as you push off the bricks and force your legs to carry you around the corner of the house. finally a full bar of service, you have to focus on the blurry phone icon while your thumb finds its way there.

why is everything so hard?

you manage to fumble your phone before you’re able to start the call. it feels like there’s a brick in your skull with how heavy your head becomes as you bend over to reach for the device. just as your finger tips touch your screen, there’s big, rough ones which grab at your hips. you don’t have time to scream before your arm is wound behind your back and used to press you against the brick of the house. you lose any hope of grabbing your phone and yelp as your chest and cheek sting at the harsh contact. your vision spins as you blink in the dim light, you can’t even make out the shape of the person behind you.

”don’t scream.” the stranger speaks in your ear, though slightly muffled, it still makes you freeze all the same. the adrenaline delays the recognition of the cold blade at your back, a knife. how were those girls killed again? you immediately nod, further scraping yours skin against the jagged edges of the brick. fear courses through your veins as he takes hold of your free arm and brings it back with the other, wrapping a large hand around both to keep them in place.

you try to plead with him when his knife moves from your back, the threat of it gone, or maybe all the alcohol making you bold enough to speak.

“i haven’t seen your face.” you whisper, hoping it was low enough for him to allow it. “you don’t have to kill me, you could just let me go.”

“let you go?” he asks, surely it’s your intoxicated mind, but he sounds genuinely confused, almost hurt by your words. “i can’t,” he mutters and you whine as your heart hammers in your chest. “i f-finally have you.” you hear the man sigh behind you before he presses his face into your neck, you can hear the echo in whatever metal he has wrapped over his face as he inhales deep against your skin and your body instantly reacts with chills shooting up your spine. “you smell so good.” he begins to pant as his free hand gropes at your body. “so m-much better than any of them did.”

“please… don’t,” you beg when he reaches your breast, where he squeezes it just enough to hurt before clumsily rubbing his fingers over your nipples through the cloth.

“but i knew you would.” he continues as if you didn’t speak, as if your words don’t matter. “you’re the b-best, the only good one, only you.”

his hand drags from your chest down to your waist where he starts to struggle with your bottoms. and your eyes begin to feel with tears at the inevitable.

“please just let me go.” you try again, hoping for just an ounce of pity. “i really won’t tell anyone.”

“i’m sorry.” his body pressed up against you, shoving you farther into the hard wall, ”i’m sorry, angel,” you finally realize just how much bigger the man is than you. “im just–i can’t stop. i need you.” his grip on your arms disappears as he opts to use his large stature to keep you pinned, with both of his hands to work your bottoms down to your knees before he’s humping against your ass. “i wanted to wait– wanted our first to be special.”

the deadweight feeling at the back of your mind aches to takeover, the dizziness, the fear, the effor it takes for you to just breathe right now it far too much, so you succumb to it all– making you completely helpless. all you can do is stand there and hope he’ll let you go once he’s had his fill. not that it’s easy, there’s bile churning in your stomach when you hear the click of his belt, feel the shuffle of him tugging his own pants down.

you have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from crying when you feel the heat of what has to be his cock prodding between your thighs. the only thing keeping any distance between its heat and your most vulnerable parts is the underwear holding the last bit of your dignity together. but once he wraps his arms around you—which squeeze you so tight you think you’ll burst— and he angles you so your hips stick back enough for him to rub between your thighs while pressing up against your cunt, you’re sure you’ll throw up regardless.

he, however, groans at the contact. “s-so warm.” you can hear him begin to pant as his hips start rhythmically pressing into yours, the force alone enough to jolt your body against the wall. “f-feel so good.” you can taste blood as you hold back your sobs. it feels like an eternity passes, each groan and inhale against your nape makes you more nauseous until your body has had enough.

being pushed too far from the fear, the drinks, and the pain, it causes you to collapse on yourself. everything seems like it fades as you fall slack in the stranger's arms. maybe if you die while unconscious, it’ll be okay. at least you won’t feel the pain.

sounds come in and out like you have bad radio service, your eyes too heavy and body too weak to get a good sense of what’s happening, but you hear—

“t-this? my girlfriend drank too much s-so i’m j-just—“ comes from somewhere around you, somewhere close.

“awww!” you hear, whiney and dragged out from some girl who definitely had more than you tonight. “you’re such a good boyfriend for babysitting.” your heart aches when you try to fight, to move, to scream and you’re far from successful.

“i wish my boyfriend let me drink that much.” if you could just tell one person what’s happening, if you could just show even a little bit of struggle, someone could save you. “you’re even carrying her! so cute!” if someone could just see your face, maybe they’d see that this is not who you arrived with, someone could tell kirishima. “you guys get home safe~!”

you feel like a boulder is set on your chest, the weight of your failure weight bearing on you when everything’s quiet again.

/// /// ///

you don’t know how much time passes before you’re able to bring yourself out of your useless state until you’re finally able to blink your eyes open and take in your surroundings. it’s all blurry at first, but the furniture in your line of sight slowly starts to resemble that of the setup you have in your room. there’s your vanity, your nightstand, this is your comforter, a weak smile works its way onto your lips.

you could cry from the relief. whatever happened, whether it was all a dream or something you won’t be able to remember, you don’t care. you’re home.

you toss your head back into your pillow, taking in a deep breath, catching the smell of what's likely your own sweat before you try to stretch your arms out, the needles stabbing into your hands making you feel the need to shake them to fix your blood flow. but they don’t budge, and the sound of metal clanking makes you shoot your eyes open and then you feel it.

your grogginess to blame for you not being able to the cuffs that encase them before. nor the sinking weight that kneels beside you, a large figure looming over you looking that much more daunting with the light behind him illuminating only his towering figure as he hunches over you, huffing and whining with his cock only inches from your face.

your lips tremble when the false sense of safety washed away and you look up past the movement of his hand, slowly taking in the dark green mess of hair that falls around his face, the chunky metallic mask that causes each of his heavy breaths to be echoed before you meet his eyes, the wide, terrifying green gaze that burns back at you makes you wish you were still unconscious.

“o-oh.” he’s so loud as he shoots out his load across your face and the bare parts of your chest, thick and hot where it lands. you cringe as your name is chanted off his lips and you squeeze your eyes and mouth closed, not wanting to let yourself be any more violated than you already feel. your head pounds as you feel the urge to cry, but you can’t seem to force yourself to.

“i didn’t—i didn’t finish earlier,” you hear him mutter above you, “and it hurt—looking at you,” a hand smoothes along your hairline, making you jump at the contact, and he retracts. “s-sorry… you’re just… so pretty.”

“can i…” he starts and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to answer if he actually asks you a question. “can i take a picture? it’ll only be for me, i promise.”

“please…” your voice is weak and you have to try and gather some spit to swallow to allow yourself any more volume. “don’t…” your request is sure to be ignored, he’s seemed to do whatever else he’s liked.

“you’re r-right,” you feel the mattress rise once he disappears from beside you, “another time.”

you try to test your voice again, you’re not sure how long it’s been since what you can last remember, but if fuzen wasn’t on patrol, he’d be in bed. if only you could scream.

“i’ll clean you up, is that o-okay?” you don’t reply, only tense when the warm cloth wipes at your skin. “sorry, again. i feel like such a pervert.”

you open your eyes again once they’re clean, and staring at your curtains, you try to think. you can’t even speak, can’t move, can’t fight. how long are you going to be so helpless?

“are you okay? i know i probably scared you…” you wish you could scoff. “could you at least look at me?”

you don’t move to face him, not wanting to look into those horrifying eyes again. just the thought of him, next to you now, staring at you with them makes you shudder with fear.

“look at me.” he grips your jaw, reminding you how big his hands are as he forces you to turn towards him. you avoid meeting his gaze. not wanting to know if it’s just as piercing as before, instead, you take in the green mess of curls, how they stick about and fall into his face. you can see him staring at you, but still, skip over making eye contact and make out the freckles at peek out from behind the metallic mask that seems to be slipping, making you close your eyes again.

if there was any small chance of you getting out of here alive, there’s no way you can see his face.

“hey–”

“your mask,” you whisper, and his grip loosens as soon as you speak.

“oh,” he mumbles back. you can hear what you guess is him toying with it, but you realize as you peek up, was him removing it. “guess i don’t need this.”

with his face fully revealed, you can feel yourself sinking into acceptance of your fate.

“you’re staring…” you can visibly see him swallow, his eyes darting between yours and the floor. “am i attractive?” a soft smile grows on his lips at him complimenting himself as if you’d really said it. “i’m happy you think so.”

“i have a roommate,” you speak, voice cracking.

“what?” his eyebrows drawn together, face set in a scowl before he pushes himself from your bed. “you need some water.”

“he’s a hero.” you try again, even as he walks away and you’re sure you’re out of earshot. “a strong one, and he’ll be home soon.” you pick your head up to watch him throw the door open, and all of your hope for your roommate saving you drains as you stare down a hallway that doesn’t belong in your apartment; you’re not home…

if you saw any typos, no you didn’t !!&lt;;33

reblogs + asks + feedback appreciated !

[strniohoeee]

Hidden In The Shadows Pt. 4(Final Chapter)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Waking up dazed and confused, Y/N is taken by surprise when certain events seem to take place. Unsure of how to feel Y/N battles with the decisions of staying or leaving for good

Warnings⚠️: SADDDDD NGL😭, but like not really but also IDK??? I wasn’t sure how to end this installment, but I know I didn’t want to make it some fairytale type shit LMAOOO

Songs for imagine: Blue Moon- Elvis Presley, Bang Bang(My Baby Shot Me Down)- Nancy Sinatra

Tags: @lacysturniolo @gamermattsgf @nicksmainbitch @s7urnfilms @sturnssmuts @vickyzloserz @mayhem-72 @sturn3g1rl @mattsturniolowifey

Blue Moon

You knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

If my mother could see the position I was currently in she’d be so ashamed….disappointed even. She’s always taught me stranger danger and leave it to her daughter to sleep with the stranger and the danger….

I can’t remember much, but I can remember the emptiness….the cold darkness of my mind. My physical body slumps somewhere while my conscious fights to wake me up.

Who knows what’s going on in the real world right now. I could be tied to a pole and slow roasting like a pig, or maybe even locked in someone’s dungeon. Or what if this is all some crazy bad dream and I’m actually back home in my comfortable bed….

My thoughts were slowly coming to a halt as my eyes began to open slowly. Squinting at the sensitivity they were facing I groaned and cleared my throat. The throbbing in my head and the burning of my nose leads me to believe Matt used an awful lot of chloroform to knock me out. He’s lucky he didn’t kill because I’d haunt his ass.

Opening my eyes fully I realized I was tied to a chair in a basement? Oh actually my basement? Looking around I realized I was in the same place I was when Matt caught me.

I began to move against the ropes, pulling and yanking as I groaned in anger.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” I heard from behind me, causing me to stop and jump

“Who’s there” I asked trying to look over my shoulders

“Why’d you have to be so nosy? Making everything so complicated” I heard him say

“You fucking psycho….Matt let me fucking go” I said pulling harder against the ropes

“You see I just can’t do that” he replied to me walking from behind me

“You fucking weirdo….oh god….oh my god I had sex with a fucking psycho… please just kill me that would be less embarrassing” I say shaking my head and tapping my feet on the ground

Coming from behind me Matt stands in front of me. Except he doesn’t look angry…. He looked concerned and scared. Which made me a bit scared and anxious

“What are you doing?” I yelled at him yanking myself around

“sit still” he said in a firm whisper

“Fuck off” I said in annoyance to him

Grabbing my face to have me look at him I attempted to yank away.

“GET OFF OF ME” I yelled at him trying to bite him

“STOP IT AND LOOK AT ME” he says with wide eyes

Letting go of me he steps back. Looking over his shoulder he turns back to me. Placing his pointer finger over his mouth he motions for me to stay quiet and then with the same finger points behind himself and then points to his ear.

“Listen here darling you’re going to do as I say” he says sternly and loudly

Digging in his back pocket he takes out a piece of paper, unraveling it he faces it to me so I can read.

They’ve been on you this whole time and they used me to get to you. At first I was going to do it, but I like you too much. They’ve been in your house multiple times and have found all the information you have on this town. I’m so sorry for who I am and what my family has done; but I don’t want to hurt you. They are having me watch you while they put all your stuff in your car. They’re planning to kill you and make it seem like it was an accident. However I won’t let that happen. I’m going to get you out of here and I have a plan! But they don’t fully trust me and are listening to me and watching my every move. So please just do as I say. I’m sorry.

After reading the note a tear slipped down my face and I looked up at Matt. His eyes softened and his lip trembled, swallowing thickly he nodded his head. Folding the paper back up he put it in his back pocket.

“You will listen to me and me only! Make any stupid moves and I will kill you myself” he says loudly with a sincere look

“Go to hell” I spat at him

Listening above he heard the two men walk away from the basement door. Ushering over to me quickly he got down and began to whisper

“Okay so here’s the plan. There is only one way out and only one chance to get this right so please do as I say. They’re loading up your car and they’re planning on having me drive you to a secluded area a little outside of this town. They want me to set your car on fire” he says shaking his head and looking down

“What?” I say shocked and beginning to panic

“My getaway car was planted in the area and they will be checking tonight to see that your car is completely burnt. However it won’t be there because you’ll be on your way back to Vegas. You’ll be out of their hair which will give you time to leave Vegas” he says grabbing my hand

“But what about you Matt? They’ll kill you….” I say as my voice shakes

“Exactly” he says nodding his head

“No….no you can’t do that! Come with me” I say to him looking at him in the eyes

“I can’t…they’ll catch up before we leave and we’ll both be dead instantly. Suzie and I tried it when we were 14. Thought we could leave and be young lovers together. They shot her dead in front of me… told me I’d be next if I ever stepped out of line again. You remind me so much of her I can’t see that happen again” he replied wiping tears from his eyes

“Matthew no…. I can’t leave you to die” I say sobbing

“Maybe it’s been my destiny all along” he says to me

“Maybe you can escape right before they come looking for my car. You’d get a good head start on them! Meet me in Vegas. We can run away together” I say nodding my head and licking my tear stained lips

He chuckled lightly and shook his head, opting not to answer as he stood up.

“I need you to walk outside with me when it’s time. Pretend to mouth me off, kick, scream holler! I’ll stuff you in the car and we’ll be on our way” He says to me

“Okay yeah yeah” I respond nodding my head

“But for now we wait” he states, backing up and leaning against the pole.

About thirty minutes passed before we heard anything. Barely mumbling a few words to each other. My throat had run dry from the anxiety. The fact that I could die if one thing goes wrong but mainly the fact that the last moments I’ll be sharing with Matt is him helping me escape my death that will then become his death….. my heart couldn’t take letting him die

He was destined for more. The way his eyes would light up anytime he asked me about what Vegas is like or what any other place I’ve ever visited was like. What stuck with me the most was the way his face would change when he’d realized the life he was living and what he’d have to go back to. The twinkle always disappearing. It made my heart heavy.

I wouldn’t let him die. It’s not happening and I don’t care what I have to do to prevent it. He’s had such a painful life and he’s going to honor it by dying….

My thoughts were interrupted by Matt, my eyes slowly shifting from the basement window over to his face.

“They called us up, I’m going to grab you by the back of your head and I need to just start lashing out immediately, got it?” He asked me

“Got it” I said to him

Quickly helping me out of the rope that held me to the chair he grabbed the back of my head as my arms were tied behind my back.

Gripping my hair harder I knew it was time to give it my all. Taking a shaky breath I began to yell

“LET GO OF ME, YOU AND THIS TOWN A BUNCH OF CRAZIES” I yelled as I thrashed against his grip

“Quit it” he yelled back as he pulled me up the stairs with him

“You think you can get rid of me huh? MY WHOLE FAMILY WILL COME HERE LOOKING FOR YOU” I said firmly

“LET GO LET GOOO” I kept yelling as I pulled against him, tears streaming down my face

He walked us towards the front door and that’s where Beaufort stopped us.

“Such a fiery little lady! I knew from the moment you called you’d be a problem. But one thing about me is I make my problems go away” he says sucking his tobacco and grinning at me

“You won’t get away with this you sick son of a bitch” I spat at him

“Watch me” he said smiling and opening the front door for me

“NOOO STOP NO PLEASEEE” I yelled as I kicked and thrashed against Matt. My legs swinging as I tried to “escape” his grip

“Should’ve stood in your home town. So sad you’ll be having a little accident” Beaufort says to me as he steps onto my porch

“I’ll kill you all just you watch” I yelled as Matt shoved me into the back seats as I continued to kick and hit things

Beaufort smiled an evil smile as he waved goodbye. Matt hopped in the front seat as we began to back out of my gravel driveway.

Driving down the road Matt looked in his rear view mirror before looking at me

“Okay we’re in the clear” he says to me

Sitting up I looked at him opening my mouth to talk but stopping once I saw him shaking his head no at me.

“You can’t get me to change my mind” he says

“Matt this is not okay. I basically just signed your death wish” I said to him

“And I told you maybe it’s what’s best for me” he replied shrugging his shoulder

“Okay and maybe it isn’t! Maybe it isn’t” I said sternly to him as I began to lose my patience

“Matt we’ve had such an amazing connection this past month, a connection I’ve never had with anyone else before and you can’t just leave me” I said pleading with him

“Don’t you get it? I can’t have them coming after you. I care for you lot sweetheart and if I had to live with another love of mine being hurt I couldn’t live with myself.” He replied gripping the steering wheel harder

I huffedd out a breath of annoyance and sat back in the seat, letting a few tears fall from my face. This is pure insanity! I couldn’t live with myself if Matt got hurt or even killed. I felt confused, one hand I’d be safe but on the other hand Matt would potentially be….. dead.

I hadn’t even realized how long I was in thought until the car came to a halt and I heard Matt put the car in park.

Hopping out of the car I followed suit

“Take the car and run like hell outta here darlin” he said handing the keys to me

“Please come with” I begged as I chewed my bottom lip

“I can’t little lady” he responded shaking his head and wiping his nose

“Ditch your getaway car and come with me burn your car and let’s go, we can run like hell out of here together” I said gripping onto his arms

“I can’t, I have to go back” he says looking me in my eyes

“Can you at least attempt to leave town? Maybe tonight before they come looking for my car, leave before them” I said basically begging

“I can try, but I can’t make any promises darlin” he states swallowing thickly

“Please Matt…. For me” I say wiping my eyes

“The best I can do is try, this is for you. Whether I make it out alive or not just know I want you to be safe and I will always be with you” he says to me pulling me in for a hug

“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done” he says to me as he pulls away

“I’m going to miss you” I say to him

“I’m still here” he says smiling at me

I shook my head and hugged him once again

“I better head on back” he says pulling away

Turning on his heels he walks over to his car as I follow behind. Hopping in his car he rolls down his window as I lean on it.

“Now darlin you have to promise me that you’ll listen and you’ll get out of here. Don’t try and save me” he says smiling as he bats tears from his eyes

“I promise” I responded in a whisper

“And you have to promise to never forget about me” I told him as I smiled

“I could never! I swear I’ll try and contact you if I can pretty girl” he says back as he nods his head

“Thank you Matt for getting me out of here” I say one last time

Looking into his eyes I lean over and plant my lips on his. The kiss was needy and sad. It was a goodbye kiss…. A goodbye that meant forever. There was no see you later with Matt….

We hugged and shared one last final kiss. Parting ways I got in my car and we both drove off. I was numb the whole way home. I mean how does one process all of this? My life felt so unreal?

There were many hours of crying, sitting in silence and contemplations of turning back around. I just felt so confused, I didn’t want to leave Matt and I also didn’t want to die…. I didn’t have many options

Arriving home was the most bittersweet moment. I couldn’t really tell anyone what I really went through. What that town and what those people are truly like

I spent many days in and out of therapy really trying to understand what happened to me and how to process it. What really ate at me was the fear of being found, the fear of dying and especially the fear of never seeing Matt again.

One year later

If I knew that that day I hugged and kissed Matt goodbye would be the last time I’d ever see him, I’d hold on tighter. When I finally realized Matt wasn’t coming back it hurt bad… I mean I’d hid away blaming myself for all of this.

Wondering well maybe I didn’t push hard enough because if I did he would’ve caved and came with me. Not knowing if he was dead or alive really ate at my soul. Many days went by where I wanted to call his landline, but that would be a one way ticket to my grave.

It was hard moving. After experiencing something so intense with someone and needing them by your side to never seeing them again will always sting the most.

I was angry because I felt he didn’t try hard enough. Because if he did then he’d be here right now. And then that was filled with sadness and worry. I wasn’t sure if he was okay and I had to live with the fact that I would never know.

It’s so crazy how you’ll be living your life one way and then it flips upside down so randomly.

As I finished typing my chapter on my computer I let out a sigh. Writing a book about what I went through and losing Matt was the only way I could seem to cope.

It was actually Professor Wayne who convinced me to write this. He was actually helping me a lot through all this and he truly saw how it changed me. But everytime he saw the excitement in my eyes once I finished a chapter he knew it was genuinely helping me mentally.

Pressing save I closed my laptop and looked out my window. The rain is pattering against the glass. Such a bittersweet feeling. A year ago today I was about to sleep with my weird neighbor and friend and now I’m here in my empty apartment staring out the glass and reminiscing.

It’s still an open wound that I’m working on daily to stitch close. No one prepares you for traumatic events, especially ones that chemically alter your brain. I watched the rain trickle down the warm glass as I blink slowly. Racking my brain for answers…. I mean hell I’m just looking for one simple answer

I just want to know is Matt truly dead, or is he just

Hidden in the shadows….

The End

Yallll I hope you enjoyed the finale cause I hated it🤭 this is why I don’t write series because I’m so shit at ending things. But anywho I hope you liked it and I can’t wait to write some more for yall 🥹🖤

-J💅🏽

[gor3-hound]

Hi pookie bear… its ur favorite anon again..

Hear me out, Step brother! Leon whos dear innocent little step sister gets stuck somewhere (interesting position..) and leon cant help himself when he sees her predicament so he takes advantage of the situation and the fact that she asked him to help her get unstuck. (maybe a threat of leaving her stuck at some point, its up 2 u bbg)

ily snoogle 😍🫶

hello to... my favourite anon omg. if you say so it must be true :3

i'm hearing you out!! idk why but silly porn tropes make me giggle sometimes... listen don't analyse the logistics of acc being able to get stuck like this. i see how much space there is under the dumb beds girlies get stuck under in porn we all know it doesn't make sense

ILY EVEN MORE POOKIE... here's a drabble for you :3

nsfw below the cut - tw: stepcest, brief dub-con, leon is a little mean :((

"What the-" Leon's footsteps falter as he walks past you, stopping to take in the predicament you've gotten yourself into. He snorts out a laugh as he sees you, and you can practically sense that dumb smirk plastered on his face despite not being able to see him.

Having an ottoman bed was usually great. Your room was the smallest(Leon had promised to make your life a living hell if you took the bigger one) so having the extra space was nice. You just had to lift the slats and mattress up and boom! Free storage unit.

Of course, you're not that lucky, so the stupid thing failed on you and snapped shut with you still leaning over to look for stuff, trapping you inside. Your whole upper body was incased, and the angle was so awkward you couldn't get any leverage to push the damn thing open again.

"Leon!" You breathe out, feeling relief that someone had found you. You thought you'd be stuck under here forever. "Jesus, thank fuck. Can you help me get out of here?"

"You know, as much as I'd love to help you," He starts, steeping closer until he's right behind you. His hands settle on your hips, giving them a little squeeze. Your breath hitches at the contact, and you try to squirm away from his touch.

"I think you could stand to stay there a little longer." He finishes, his fingers brushing the waistband of your shorts.

"Leon... dude." You hiss, trying to squirm away from his touch. His hands have your cheeks burning up, your brows furrowed in confusion. "This isn't funny! What the hell are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" He repeats, letting out another laugh as he starts to slowly tug your shorts down. You can feel his gaze locked onto you as he slips them down so they pool at your knees. "I'm taking advantage of the situation. It'd be a shame to let this... opportunity go to waste."

"Oppur... wait. Leon, you can't be serious! Come on, this is messed up! Just help me out!"

"No can do, sis." He hums, brushing his thumb against your panties. Damp. Looks like you were enjoying this more than you let on. "Mom and dad have gone out, so... either you stay here for the next few hours, hell... maybe even the rest of the day, or you let me have my fun, and I'll getcha out."

You pause at his words, biting your lip. You didn't really have much of a choice. Your abdomen was already aching from being pressed so harshly against the bedframe by the part of the bed that lifts. You didn't want to be here for hours.

"I-I guess... just... I don't know, Leon, I haven't..." You mumble, your voice a lot less snappy than before.

"Aww, princess... where'd your attitude go?" He coos teasingly, rubbing circles onto your clit through your panties. You jolt at the sensation, moaning softly. "My baby sis is a virgin? That's cute."

He tugs at your panties, letting them drop down with your shorts. You hear him take a sharp intake of breath in as he looks at you, his fingers spreading your puffy lips.

"Don't worry. I'm not a complete asshole. Just a small one." He says cheekily, and then you hear the dostinct sound of a belt buckle and the zipper of his jeans. A moment passes when you can hear the rustling of fabric, and then his hands are on you again.

"I won't fuck you. Yet. But I'll make us both feel good, sweetheart." He says, giving you a few light smacks to your ass.

"Okay..." You breathe out, your heart rabbiting in your chest. You swallow hard, brows furrowing as you hear him shift.

"That's a good girl." He grunts, slotting his cock between your folds. That's where he keeps it, just rutting his cock against you. You coat him in your arousal, the slick sounds of your pussy echoing in the room as you drip all over his cock. His tip brushes your clit every time his hips jerk forward, making you whine.

"You do owe me now, sweetheart." He groans, forcing your legs together so the fat of your thighs keeps his cock secure as he humps your cunt. "I better be the one to break you in. Want my cute step-sister's pussy all to myself."

"Y-yeah... all yours..." You breathe out, trying to rock your hips back to get more friction against your sensitive nub. You whimper as the change in angle has his length dragging along your folds deliciously.

"Think I watched a video like this once." He says with a huff of laughter, gripping your hips right as he chases his orgasm using your body. "Must've drained all the step-sibling content on PornHub... couldn't help myself seein' you stuck like this."

His thrusts start to grow a little sloppy, his breathing becoming more shallow. He's close already, and you're not far behind. He rolls his hips, angling himself to make sure he's giving you the friction you need.

Your body tenses as you cum with a loud moan of his name, twitching from the aftershocks. He groans and pulls away when you start whimpering from oversensitivity. You hear a few wet schlick sounds as he jerks himself off, flinching slightly when you feel his cum costing your ass and pussy.

He pulls up your shorts and panties without cleaning you off, making you cringe as they press the cum into your skin, a grimace crossing your face. You hear the sounds of him redressing before he's lifting the top of the bed, looking down at you with a cocky smirk.

"C'mon, princess. Up you get." He says, grabbing your wrist to pull you up. "And don't forget... I'll be back for more."

[zer0pm]

Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.

“What’s in Spain?”

“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”

“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”

.

“You seem distracted.”

“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.

“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”

You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”

It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.

But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?

Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.

.

“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”

“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”

“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”

“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”

“This all sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”

“He must be very proud of you.”

“I hope so...”

“You don’t keep in touch?”

“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”

“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”

“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”

“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”

.

You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.

No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.

However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.

It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.

It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.

.

“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t go to Spain with you.”

“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”

“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”

“¿Mande? Why.”

“I want to tell you, I really do.”

“…Tú no me quieres.”

“No! Of course I do.”

“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”

“This isn’t about trust.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”

“Just please remember that what we had was real.”

“¡Amor!”

“Goodbye, Luis.”

.

That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.

You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.

When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.

“Over here. I found someone.”

Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”

“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”

You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.

It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.

Luis Serra Navarro.

“Oh no, not you.”

The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.

“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”

You had so many questions.

.

.

.

A/N: Part Two can be found right here~

[whirlybirbs]

— THE FALL ; SUGURU GETO ; 夏油傑

summary: it's loud. geto can silence it. pairing: suguru geto / f!reader ; set post-hidden inventory wc: 3.6k tags: mentions of drug reliance, sleep deprivation, darker themes, wholesome crushes, jujutsu high more like jujutsu university, texting as a plot device, hot n heavy make-out sesh included between the angst a/n: (johnny cash voice) i hhurt.... myselff... todaay....

YOU MISS NOTHING more than you miss sleep.

you crave the welcoming, black, empty bliss; the slip of the other-world passing like a fog behind your eyelids. an embrace as heavy as an anchor in a pitch colored sea. endless — rest.

the veil is thinner now, in the silence of night.

it's when the voices are loudest.

your ears ring with nonsensical chatter condensed into whispered pleading. the spirits reach out to you, hands grasping for purchase in your energy. they clamor and cling, desperate to be heard.

they talk. and talk. and talk and TALK.

... you could take the zolpidem.

the bottle on your nightstand stares at you in the bleeding red light of your clock. the sedative, crimson and etched, nearly begs to be swallowed down just as you've done every night since you were young.

but it's different now.

since the hallucinations, since the forgetting. since... since a month ago, now. since yu. since you started to wonder if all this, if jujutsu sorcery, was worth it.

the pill promises sleep. it promises unmoving silence. it may promise a ball and chain, but with it's driven stake it promises a dampened sense of awareness to the second world around you — of spirit and curse. peace.

they also promise emptiness. drifting confusion. sadness. dreams where you're all smiling again.

you roll over.

and then you watch the stars fade, and the sun rise.

suguru geto.

you find it hard to sit in his presence.

you wonder if he knows the curses he carry chatter away in your ears. you wonder if he hears them too; if their words have ever struck their mark.

he is a talented exorcist.

you are a talented investigator.

you two would work well together.

but, now — in this world — you two are hardly anything more than stars passing in the night sky.

that will change.

"you haven't been sleeping."

his voice is deep — the cadence is calming. if you focus hard, you can tune out the river of whispers that follow him like a shadow.

you turn, casting a look over your shoulder.

your eyes feel heavy. your lashes are weighed down by the hours and hours and hours of the passing days. suguru looks no better. he stalks down the hallway towards you.

you and suguru are hardly friends. more like passing acquaintances. you much preferred solitude, and you found gojo to be unsteady — and where one was, the other was close behind. gojo is capable, yes, but far too explosive for you.

after all, you listen.

what you hadn't realized is — in this moment — that suguru has been doing the same.

in your nook, nestled away in the morning sun, you're gripping your journal. in this part of the dorms, it's quieter. far from everyone, you find the energy has settled into a low hum. you can write here.

but recently, the pen scratches have become more desperate.

WHO AM I? WHO AM I? WHO AM I? W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀

over and over again. over and over. over and over and over—

"the admins are worried," he says with a painful sort of casualness that make you wonder what his goal here is.

you nearly scoff.

you pull your knees closer and close your notebook. shame bites at your ink covered fingertips. you swallow as he sits down on the ledge beside you. his dark eyes level with the ground.

"is that so."

less of a question. more a disregard.

suguru looks up. you look away.

"you sound," he begins slowly, "like you aren't surprised."

you sit in that for a moment. you squirm under his thoughtful gaze. it's nearly painful to be watched so closely by him. suguru geto is handsome; but he is cursed. they bleed into his energy, all of the absorbed curses. they chitter and chat and bite at your senses.

"between you and i," you mutter, "maybe they should be."

he hums. you wonder why you told him that.

he claps his hands before him and leans forward onto his knees.

you wince.

"between you and i," he says slowly, "maybe they should worry about both of us."

geto stands, tucks his hands into his pockets, and watches you for a moment longer. then, without a word, he continues on down the hall towards the dim, lonely exit.

for the first time, you really watch him.

gojo is on a solo assignment.

geto arrives in masamichi's office to find you there already. there is a steaming cup of green tea in your hands. you cradle it close to your chest; this momentary pleasure is enough to make your eyes heavy.

when the sliding door rattles open, you turn your eyes towards him. you cross your legs. your skin itches. the rush of whispers that accompanies him crawls up your face.

suguru notices the wince. he settles down in the seat beside you. his hair is down, spilling over his shoulders. he smells like sandalwood.

you sip your tea.

"i'm sending you both to sawara."

sawara.

chiba prefecture is quiet.

there's the old katori shrine outside of town.

it's dedicated to futsunushi no mikoto; the kami is revered for swordsmanship. a warrior.

the shrine —or whatever has nested in its sacred walls — has been talking for a while now.

you can hear it the moment you step off the train.

geto suguru isn't far behind. your bag, slung over his shoulder, swings as he takes a long stride onto the platform. after all, he insisted.

geto nearly runs into your back; he stops short as people flow out around you. you're rooted there, your boots cemented to the yellowing tile of the station platform.

it's late now. the station's warm, honeyed lights fade into the darkness beyond. suguru can hear frogs chirping in the late summer air. somewhere, a cricket's song crescendos.

geto's eyes momentarily narrow.

"do you feel it?" he asks slowly as the doors close behind him and the train pulls away. your hair whips in the breeze. then, a breathe passes, and everything settles into quiet again.

you stare ahead, through the station.

"i hear it."

with that, you begin moving. suguru inhales, and watches you for a moment longer.

you've always been a hard read.

you're the same year as him, satoru and shoko. but you're cold. tired. you seem to thrive in isolation — no, no. no, you've forced the isolation. suguru sees that.

he's impressed you can sense the curse this far out from the location.

even for him, with his intrinsic ability to commune with them, he feels nothing but the base pulse of cursed energy. no seismic differences.

geto is pulled from his thoughts when you turn and catch his gaze over your shoulder.

his chest tightens for a moment.

the feeling is strange.

like you.

your driver drops you off at a hotel around midnight.

the pink vacant sign hums outside your window.

the sheets are stiff. the closet is musty. your bed is small. at the very least, the water had been hot.

but... suguru.

it's all you can hear.

his curses — not him. the things intwined with his spirit are gossiping in tongues ancient and unknown. they chitter and chirp and giggle and scoff and chatter and talk and talk and talk AND TALK.

you slam your pillow down over your head.

across the hall, suguru is awake.

his head is in his hands.

assignment after assignment. exorcise. absorb. again and again.

how much longer of this can he take?

again and again AND AGAIN—

by his bedside, his phone hums.

he tries to ignore it. but, another ping riles him out of his headspace. heaving a long sigh, the dark haired sorcerer leans to swipe the nokia from its charger.

satoru's name pops up on the screen, and his inbox blinks at him.

[ GOJO: ] a lil birdie told me that ur hanging with the local hot freak this wknd [ GOJO: ] how is she? freaky? ;)

geto scoffs. he's quick to type back. the charm on his phone — a gift from shoko for his birthday last year — sways. the ceramic, worn frog tinkers against the back of his phone.

[ GETO: ] don't b mean. [ GOJO: ] hey i love freaks. ask shoko. she knows. [ GOJO: ] you love freaks 2. u 2 wud b cute 2gthr [ GOJO: ] ... [ GOJO: ] ur ignoring me [ GOJO: ] HELLO!!!!!!11!! [ GETO: ] she is rlly nice. just quiet. talk 2 u tmrw :-) gnight [ GOJO: ] go get ur goodnight kiss buddy ilysm

he flips the phone shut and tosses it down to the sheets.

just in time for a series of quiet knocks to garner his attention.

heaving himself upwards, the sorcerer opens the door with a quirked expression.

on the other side of the door, you're standing there.

your face is contorted into pain.

before he can even open his mouth, you're gritting out a pained snarl.

"can you keep it down?"

geto blinks. "...i'm sorry?"

"you're loud. too loud."

his dark eyes widen.

oh.

and suddenly, as if someone has slipped cotton in your ears, there's near silence. not complete. but muffled. it's enough — and suddenly you realize that suguru understood.

he listened.

somehow, he's banished any curses from his radius. a minor exorcism, maybe? a domain? it's... fuck, it's quiet.

his eyes are soft. "i hadn't realized."

you feel as if someone has suddenly shoved a dozen roses down your throat. they threaten to spill from your mouth.

your voice is quiet.

"...no one ever does."

you're stunned into a breathless awe.

and then he smiles. "i am sorry — i hadn't realized how sensitive your technique was. it was rude of me to not consider how my own may impact you."

you're gobsmacked. you stare up at him in the dim light of the hotel doorway. you swallow. "don't apologize."

"you're not sleeping," he says as he tucks his hands into his pockets, "because of me. so, apology earned."

you shake your head. slow at first. then, you screw your eyes shut tight.

"it's not you."

"no?"

"no."

suguru crosses his arms. "you haven't slept in a while."

subconsciously you mimic him, closing off your body as you roll your head around and shrug. "you said it yourself — admin is worried."

he hums. "and nothing helps?"

normally, you'd pull away — leave the conversation. too much talking. too much noise. but it's quiet, and suguru smells like sandalwood. it must be his shampoo. something. you're rooted here under his dark gaze.

"i have sleeping pills," you mutter as your lashes flutter. his gaze is still and solid.

"do they help?"

"i see things. i... i dream," you don't know why you're telling him this, "and i feel wrong. and i forget."

his chest aches again.

"how...? how did you...?" you gesture tiredly about; you're referencing the silence. the stillness, "it's... peaceful."

geto toes the carpet with his black socks. "you listen to curses. i talk to them. at the root of it, it's that simple."

you exhale.

your shoulders relax.

you close your eyes.

"thank you, suguru."

"any time," he says.

and he means it.

the shrine has been talking for a while now.

that night, the talking becomes yelling and the yelling becomes shrieking.

you head out to the shrine at sunrise.

the dew is still fresh on the grass. the torii, a deep red, bleeds into your vision as you step through the archway and into the sacred space. ahead, the shrine stands tall.

the shrieks are louder now.

clinging to the doorway of the haiden, the prayer hall, is a curse.

beneath it lays the body of a woman. her shōzoku is splayed about her like a puddle of snow. her chest has been ripped open. pitch black hair spills down the steps, and feet away lays her kanmuri.

behind you, geto frowns.

"there's something in the shrine," you say as you hold the curses gaze.

suguru nods. this shrine's cursed energy is all wrong. there's more here than this simple manifestation.

"i'm going in," you say as you step forward, "i trust you won't take too long out here, geto."

his brow quirks. he nearly smiles. "well, well. someone's feeling rested."

you throw him a slow smile over your shoulder.

it's the first time he's ever seen it.

his chest ignites.

you disappear into the shrine, stepping over the woman's body. the curse above the doorway — with it's snapping jaws and bulbous eyes — has disregarded you in favor for geto's surge of energy.

"be careful," geto calls.

you throw him a thumbs up and melt away into the dark.

it was a ceremonial dagger.

masamichi has it locked away upon return to the tokyo campus.

upon touching it back at the shrine, it poured out centuries worth of horror. whispered depictions of death rushed up to the surface; it nearly burned to hold. the voices that accompanied it were tortured and pained. the rattle of a hundred last breaths were a choir in your ears.

suguru geto carried the exorcised parcel all the way back to tokyo in his pack.

masamichi commends you both on a job well done.

as you're leaving his office, geto nudges your arm gently with his.

you look up.

he has his phone extended.

"i meant it, y'know, about the whole 'any time' thing."

your eyes brighten.

you hold his gaze as a smile pulls at your cheeks. you take the cellphone, eyeing the new contact screen momentarily before beginning to thumb in your information.

"heyo! look who's back!"

geto turns, spotting satoru and shoko down the hall.

immediately, satoru spots you. and geto's phone in your hands.

gasp—!

A CONTACT SCREEN? a PHONE NUMBER?

... HIS BEST FRIEND REALLY IS GROWING UP...

you nudge geto. you hand him his cell back.

"here."

suguru blinks. "i'll... i'll text you."

"sure," you nod as a bit of nerves creep in as his two best friends approach closer, "definitely."

"okay," suguru is staring at you.

you're smiling.

"okay," you confirm, nodding.

you turn, offer him a slight wave. suguru swallows as you shuffle a bit, watching him a moment longer. he offers up his own sheepish wave.

he feels like himself.

it's the next day, right before noon, when you receive a text from an unknown number.

[ TXT: ] picking up lunch. want anything?

you're in the library, nested in the stacks as you pour over some readings on sorcerers throughout history and notable curse users. frankly, you'd lost interest an hour ago. but, essays are essays.

somehow, you know it's geto.

[ YOU: ] i'll owe you. [ GETO: ] don't worry abt it :-) where r u? [ YOU: ] floor 3 of the library. working on an essay [ GETO: ] coming :-)

... cute.

he brings you and onigiri and a soda. he eats with you, and you don't even realize the gentle quiet that's enveloped you both until the warmth of exhaustion creeps in and nothing is there to fight it.

suguru can see your eyes get heavier.

"take a nap. i'll keep watch."

so you do after you smile at him the way he loves.

[ GETO: ] u in the library again? [ YOU: ] u stalking me? :p [ GETO: ] bringing u lunch [ GETO: ] be up soon [ YOU: ] ur 2 sweet :,)

it's a new routine that quickly evolves.

in the library, during your study period, suguru brings lunch and you slip asleep in peaceful quiet after eating while he works. both of you, on full stomachs, settle into comfort.

suguru silences it all, and finally you can sleep.

an hour of shut eye.

it's been a week of this.

suguru rouses you gently. "rise and shine."

his hand is big and warm along your back.

you inhale sharply. daylight bombards your vision, and you pull your gaze up to see geto hovering over you. his hair is pulled back, and his lips are pulled into a soft smile.

you feel like your world stops for a second.

fuck.

"sorry," you groggily mumble, "i, uh... i guess i'm tired."

"don't be," he says — he moves to gather his papers, "you know, if you need sleep..."

his words trail off.

you rub your face and sit up straight. your back aches from the library's wooden chairs. you roll your neck and try to wring loose the crick in the muscle there.

then, you catch the meaning of his words.

there's that feeling again.

[ YOU: ] good luck on ur assignment [ GETO: ] gonna b gone about week or 2 [ GETO: ] i'm sorry. try 2 sleep 4 me pls [ YOU: ] don't b sorry [ YOU: ] just b safe :) [ YOU: ] see u when ur back :)

three weeks.

it takes three weeks.

you don't sleep.

W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀

Ḭ̷̚ ̴̲̮̺̺̥͙̠̖͉̓͜Ç̷͙̠͖̣͙̫̘̰̣̝̹̻̹͝Ȧ̴̧͖͉̙̙͖̥̥̩̼͜ͅṄ̷̜N̸̡̟̭̬͈̘̭̠̽̋̐̐͛̊͂̔́́̾̅̐͘͝ͅͅŐ̴͓͖̞͍͔͓̞̦̪́̌T̶̨̞͕̦͌͋͊̂̉̈́̆́̾̕ ̶̨̫̺̯͇̝̰̦͔̓̊̋̓̃̾̃͛̚͝͠͝K̶̘̼̫̯̀̀̾̅̋̈́̂͋̀͗́͐̀̾E̵̤̘͓̱̺̾̀͊͂͊̄E̷̢͖̝͓͍̭͚̹̘̘̣̊͊̃̋͐̋͆͂̎͛̾͘P̵̱̭̿̃̓̈͗͜͠ ̶̡̛̼̬̯̪͔͙͍͈̽͆̈́̈́̓D̴̜͉̮̠̩̫͎͒̄̐̀̎͛͂̔̒̓̈́͘̕͠͠Ơ̴͔̼͇̖͕̽̑͂̾̇͆́͆̋̈́̊̕̚͝I̵̢̙̘̠̊̏̂̔̈̒͒́͗̈́́́͘Ṉ̸̢̨̟̩̯̌̋͋̾͐̿́̋̏̀͋̄̏̈́̕G̷͎̟̬͕̤̓́͂͒ ̶̛̘͈̝̇̔̇́͑̀͂͋T̷̢̡̢̯̲̲̝̝͓̜̔̈́̄̏͊̾̃͝ͅḨ̷̢̛̺͈̣̭̲͕̙̰͓͉͎̾͛̓̓͐̎̚Į̵̻̥̯͕̙̩̙̦̘̰̲̺̦̞̆͊S̴̥͕̠̪̀̅̓̑͐̒͊̄͂͊̎͂͘̕͝ W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? ń̴͇̾ò̷̹̙ ̸̭͉̂̆ǵ̵̣ḙ̸̢͌t̷͚͓͝o̵͓̓͝ͅ ̶̩̅ḯ̴̫̝̅ ̸̹͚̆m̷̭̉̈́i̶̮̞̾s̷͈̜̕s̸̡̉͐ ̴͔̒͝g̷̰̦͌̅e̴̹͋͊t̵͖̩̑̐o̴͈̝̾ ̶̛͍ẉ̷̜̌̄ḧ̴̠̼́e̷̠̹̿͌r̴̻̫͆̚ë̵͈͎́̀ ̶͕͍̌į̴͎̽̽s̵̗̘̈͝ ̸̠̀̉g̸̤͛̋e̶͔͝t̷̰͒̈o̴͉͋̒

T̴̬͋H̶̰͚͖͕́̒͐̊E̷̠̽̔̈́Ỹ̶͔̈́̊ ̷͈̱͓̽K̵̨͉͓͋͒̅̾E̷̙͗͛͂E̷̻̦̮̊̋P̸̨̬͈̈́̈́͛͝ ̶̢͕̼̒̑͗̈́T̸̨͋̇̀A̵̧̙̹͒̓͘ͅL̷͈̮̇̿̐̾͜K̴̨̳̫̾̅͘ͅI̷̛̟̾͘Ņ̶̎̎Ģ̵̞͝ ̵̯͕͓̈̉́A̸̮̗̿̋̆̕Ņ̶̹̗̒́D̸͇͓̑̐̕ ̸̢̭͕͛͝͠T̶̻̄͝Ä̶͇̻̞́͌͌̈́Ļ̵̳̫̄K̵̤̻̓̓̈́͝Í̶̧̻N̷̹̜͛́G̷͇̤̈̍

you've been pacing in your dorm for the last thirty minutes.

it's 2:38 in the morning.

you cannot sleep.

your phone is in your hand. a text is sitting there, unsent. the cursor winks.

suguru and gojo and shoko returned earlier this evening. you hadn't had time to even say hello to geto before the three were pulled into a briefing with masamichi.

you decided to try and go to bed.

that wasn't happening.

across campus, geto suguru is staring at the ceiling.

he snatches his phone the split moment it goes off. he was waiting. he would never admit that to himself.

[ YOU: ] u awake?

it's not even a minute later that your phone glows alive with his reply.

[ GETO: ] coming

he swears he's never leapt into a pair of joggers faster. he yanks a hoodie on, and trips over himself as he muscles on his trainers. he tries to be quiet, knowing full well that if gojo heard him sneaking out from his room across the hall he would never hear the end of it.

gojo has already been up his ass about you.

at least shoko is sweet about it.

he makes it across campus in record time; and he's fixing his bun when you yank your door open.

something is different.

he's different.

"hi."

his breath catches.

"hey."

there's a moment where both of you just watch one another, lips parted and breaths bated.

then, geto crosses the threshold.

he steps forward, and you take one step back. enough that he's close now. suguru is in your orbit. your hand slips from the door, and he takes it upon himself to close it behind him without looking.

the tension in the air is electric.

it's darker now; your desk lamp illuminates the room and casts inky shadows.

his eyes are bouncing across your features — and you do the same. in the privacy of your room, you feel like your heart is going to burst. in his silence, you feel dizzy.

it's different this time.

near frantic.

the room swims as you let him take a step closer.

your mouth is dry. "i'm sorry it's late — i missed you. and, just, after what you said that time in the library..."

he's toe to toe with you now, towering above you as he leans closer.

"you haven't slept."

"can't... not... without you."

his chest presses to yours. you swallow thickly as he crowds your space. his energy mingles momentarily with yours in a flash of uncontrolled touch.

"this is a bad idea," he croaks.

"you and i," you confirm, nodding as your eyes slip to his mouth, "yea."

"yea," but his hands are slipping along your jaw. he's eyeing your lips, "real bad idea."

you swear it's like someone has run a searing hot knife along your heart — it feels... good. dangerous.

BETWEEN YOU AND I, MAYBE THEY SHOULD WORRY ABOUT BOTH OF US.

"tell me you want me to leave," he mutters; his nose brushes yours and you lift your jaw to chase the touch. his eyes are dark, "tell me to fuck off."

you shake your head. suguru's mouth hangs open. he wets his lips.

"please stay."

the waves crashes down; the kiss is harsh and rough. but it's perfect. it's silent and comforting and frantic and manic and it tells you enough that you shouldn't be shocked when suguru geto falls from grace in a week's time.

but that's not now.

now is hot and messy, mouths mingling as hands root themselves in clothing. it's desperate; desperate enough that you pull him through the room by his hood. it's everything to suguru. it's what he's wanted.

you're different.

you know what it's like to suffer in sorcery.

you make him feel fine. like he isn't splitting at the seams. like he isn't disgusted by every walking bag of flesh on the street. like he isn't falling apart.

you chase his mouth when he pulls away to take a gulp of air; his back finds your door. geto is fast to knot his hands in your shirt and swing you around.

he cages you against the wood.

"this is a bad idea."

you shouldn't be shocked when suguru geto falls from grace in a week's time.

but you're not far behind.

after all, he is the welcoming, black, empty bliss; the slip of the other-world passing like a fog behind your eyelids. an embrace as heavy as an anchor in a pitch colored sea.

he is endless — he is rest.

and they were right to worry about the both of you.